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LIFE IN DIXIE 



DURING THE WAR 



d863-1864-1865. 



/ 

MARY A. H. GAY, 



Hl>'^'i ^ 



ATLANTA, GA. 

Constitution Job Office 

1892. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, 

By Mary A. H. Gay, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 




INTRODUCTION. 



I am asked to write a few words of iutroduction to 
these reminiscences of a lady who, in the pleasant 
afternoon of a life devoted to deeds of mercy and 
charity, turns fondly and sympathetically to the past. 
But there is nothing to be said. What word of mine 
could add to the interest that inheres in this unpre- 
tentious record of a troubled and bloody period? 
The chronicle speaks for itself, especially to those 
who remember something of those wonderful days of 
war. It has the charm and the distinction of absolute 
verity, a quality for which we may look in vain in 
more elaborate and ambitious publications. Here, 
indeed, is one of the sources from which history must 
get its supplies, and it is informed with a simplicity 
which history can never hope to attain. 

We have here reproduced in these records, with a 
faithfulness that is amazing, the spirit of those dark 
days that are no more. Tragedy shakes hands with 
what seems to be trivial, and the commonplaces of 
every day life seem to move forward with the gray 
battalions that went forth to war. 

It is a gentle, a faithful and a tender hand that 
guides the pen — a soul nerved to sacrifice that tells 
the tale. For the rest, let the records speak for them- 
selves. 

Joel Chandler Harris. 



PREFACE. 



By way of preface to "Life in Dixie During the 
War/' I scarcely know what to say. I have long 
felt that it was the duty of the South to bequeath to 
posterity the traditions of that period; for if we do it 
not ourselves they will be swallowed up in oblivion. 
Entertaining this opinion, I have essayed the task of 
an individual effort, and hope that others may follow 
my example. 

No woman who has seen what I have seen, and felt 
what I have felt, would be apt to write with less 
asperity ; and yet, now that we have come back to the 
United States, and mean to stay in it, let the provoca- 
tion to depart be what it may, I would not put into 
practice an iota of the war-time feeling. In thus 
expressing myself I am sure I represent every Chris- 
tian in my own beautiful Southland. 

There was one for whom these sketches would have 
had a special interest. An inspiring motive for writing 
them was that they would be read by my nephew, 
Thomas H. Stokes, of Atlanta, the only child of the 
brother so often mentioned. But, ere he had had 
more than a glimpse of them, he was called away 
by an Inscrutable Providence, in his jDure and beau- 
tiful young manhood, as we trust, to a Land of 
Peace more in keeping with his noble, true and ten- 
der heart than earth, with its sin and strife. '^Blessed 
are the pure in heart; for they shall see God." 



Life in Dixie During the War, 



CHAPTER I. 

Coming home from Camp Chase— The faithful servant's 
gift — A glimpse of Confederate braves. 

"A LETTER from Marse Thomie/' said our mail-carrier, 
Toby, as he got in speaking distance on his return 
from the post-office. 

^^AYhat makes you think so?'^ I said, excitedly. 

"I know his hand-write, and this is it," he said, 
selecting a letter from a large package and handing it 
to me. The very first glimpse of the superscription 
assured me of the correctness of his confident asser- 
tion. 

The letter was addressed to our mother, and bore a 
United States postage stamp, and the beloved signa- 
ture of her only sou, Thomas J. Stokes. A thrill of 
gratitude and joy filled our hearts too full for utter- 
ance, as we read: 

''My Dear Mother: I have learued that the 
soldiers of the 10th Texas Infantry will be exchanged 
for United States troops very soon, ])erha])s to-mor- 
row; and then, what happiness will be mine! I can 



8 LIFE IN DIXIE 

scarcely wait its realization. A visit home^ a mother's 
embrace and kiss, the heart-felt manifestations of the 
love of two fond sisters, and the joy and glad expres- 
sion of faithful servants. I may bring several friends 
with me, whom I know yon will welcome, both for 
my sake and theirs — they are valiant defenders of 
the cause we love. Adieu, dear mother, and sisters, 
until I see you at home, Miome, sweet home.''' 

"Thomie is coming home!" ^'Thomie Stokes is 
coming home ! " was the glad announcement of mother, 
sisters, and friends; and the servants took up the 
intelligence, and told everybody that Marse Thomie 
was coming home, and was going to bring some sol- 
diers with him. 

Another day dawned, and love's labor commenced 
in earnest. Doors were opened, and rooms venti- 
lated; bed-clothing aired and sunned, and dusting 
brushes and brooms in willing hands removed every 
particle of that much dreaded material of which man 
in all his glory, or ignominy, was created. Furniture 
and picture frames Avere polished and artistically 
arranged. And we beheld the work of the first day, 
and it was good. 

When another day dawned we were up with the 
lark, and his matin notes found responsive melody in 
our hearts, the sweet refrain of which was, "Thomie 
is coming," — the soldier son and brother. Light- 
bread and rolls, rusks and pies, cakes; -etc., etc., were 
baked, and sweetmeats prepared, and another day's 
work was ended and pronounced satisfactory. 



DURING THE WAR. 9 

The third clay, for a generous bonus, '^ Uncle 
Mack's'' services were secured, and a fine pig was 
slaughtered and prepared for the ov^en, and also a 
couple of young hens, and many other luxuries -too 
numerous to mention. 

When all was ready for the feast of thanksgiving 
for the return of the loved one, the waiting seemed 
interminable. There was pathos in every look, tone, 
and act of our mother — the lingering look at the 
calendar, the frequent glance at the clock, told that 
the days were counted, yea, that the hours were num- 
bered. At length the weary v^^aiting ended, and the 
joyous meeting came of mother and son, of sisteis 
and brother, after a separation of four years of health 
and sickness, of joy and anguish, of hope and fear. 

As we stood upon the platform of the Decatur 
depot, and saw him step from the train, which we had 
been told by telegram would bring him to us, our 
hearts were filled w^th consternation and pity, and 
tears unbidden coursed down our cheeks, as we looked 
upon the brave and gallant brother, who had now- 
given three years of his early manhood to a cause 
rendered dear by inheritance and the highest prin- 
ciples of patriotism, and, in doing so, had himself 
become a physical wreck. He was lean to emacia- 
tion, and in his pale face was not a suggestion of the 
ruddy color he had carried away. A constant cough, 
which he tried in vain to repress, betrayed the deep 
inroads which prison life had made upon his system ; 
and, in this respect he represented his friends — in 



10 LIFE IN BIX^E 

describing his appearance, we leave nothing untold 
about theirs. In war-worn pants and faded grey 
coats, they presented a spectacle never to be forgotten. 

Joy and grief contended for the supremacy. We 
did not realize that even a brief period of good nurs- 
ing and feeding would work a great change in the 
physical being of men just out of the prison pens of 
the frigid North, and wept to think that disease, 
apparently so deeply rooted, could not be cured, and 
that they were restored to us but to die. Perceiving 
our grief and divining the cause, our Thomie took 
us, our mother first, into his arms and kissed us, and 
said, in his old-time way, ''FU be all right soon." 

And Toby and Telitha, the house servants, came 
in for their share of kindly greeting. 

Thomie then introduced us to Captain Lauderdale, 
Captain Formwalt, and Lieutenant McMurray, his 
Texas friends and comrades in arms. Our cordial, 
heart-felt welcome was appreciated by this trio of 
gentlemen, and to this day we receive from them 
messages of abiding friendship. Captain Lauderdale 
was one of the most perfect gentlemen I ever saw — 
tall, graceful, erect, and finely formed. His face, of 
Grecian mould, was faultless; and his hair, black as 
a raven's plumage, and interspersed with grey, would 
have adorned the head of a king. His bearing was 
dignified and yet affable, and so polished and easy in 
manner as to invite most friendly intercourse. 

Captain Formwalt was also a fine specimen of man- 
hood — free and easy, gay and rollicking. He seemed 



DURINQ THE WAB. 11 

to thiuk his mission on earth was to bring cheerful- 
ness and glee into every household he entered. 

Lieutenant McMurray was unlike either of his 
friends. Apparently cold, apathetic and reserved, he 
repelled all advances tending to cordial relations, 
until well acquainted, after which he was metamor- 
phosed into a kind and genial gentleman. 

Thomie, dear Thomie, was a boy again, and while 
our guests were refreshing themselves preparatory to 
dinner, he was going all over the house, for every 
nook and corner was endeared by association. He 
opened the piano, and running his fingers over the 
keys, with the grace and ease of his boyhood, he 
played accompaniments to his favorite songs, <'Home 
Again,'' and '^ Way Down Upon the Suwanee River," 
trying to sing, but prevented by the irrepressible 
coughing. Then, with nervous hand, he assayed 
"When this Cruel War is Over." Turning away 
from the piano, he went to the library, and handled 
with tender care the books he had read in boyhood. 
Shakespeare, Milton, Byron and Moore possessed no 
interest for him now ; and Blackstone and Chitty were 
equally ignored. The books his mother and sister 
read to him in his childhood were, as it by intuition, 
selected, and fondly conned and handled. His own 
name was written in them, and his tearful eyes 
lingered long and lovingly upon these reminders of 
boyhood's happy hours. With a sigh he left the 
library, and espying Toby, wiio kept where he could 
see as much as possible of "Marse Thomie," he called 



12 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the boy and held an encouraging little conversation 
with him. 

Dinner being ready, our mother led the way to the 
dining room. Our guests having taken the seats 
assigned them, Thomie took his near his mother — his 
boyhood's seat at table. By request. Captain Lauder- 
dale asked the blessing. And, oh, what a blessing 
he invoked upon the "dear ones who, with loving 
hands, 'prepared this feast for the son and brother of 
the household, and for his friends in peace and com- 
rades in war." Pleasant conversation ensued, and all 
enjoyed the repast. But the gentlemen seemed to us 
to eat very little, and, in reply to our expression of 
disappointment, they explained the importance of 
limiting themselves for several days in this respect. 

As there was no trunk to send for, and no valise 
to carry, we rightly surmised that the clothing of 
these good men was limited to the apparel in which 
they were clad, and it was decided by my mother and 
myself that I should go to Atlanta and get material 
for a suit of clothes for Thomie, and good warm 
underclothing for them all. Arrived at Atlanta, I 
was irresistably led by that mystic power, which has 
often controlled for good results the acts of man, to 
go to Dr. Taylor's drug store. Here I found King, 
our faithful negro man, as busy as a bee, labeling and 
packing medicine for shipment. I approached him 
and said: 

''King, Thomie has come." 

''Marse Thomie?" 



DUEINO THE WAR. 13 

'^ Thank God/' he said, with fervor. 

When I was about leaving the store, he said: 

"Miss Mary, just wait a minute, please, and I will 
get something that I want you to take to Marse 
Thomie, and tell him I don't want him to be hurt 
with me for sending it to him. I just send it because 
I love him — me and him was boys together, you 
know, and I always thought he ought to 'er took me 
with him to the war." 

^^What is it. King?" 

'^ Just a little article I got in trade. Miss Mary," 
was all the satisfaction he vouchsafed. 

When he handed it to me, knowing by the sense 
of touch that it was a package of dry goods, I took 
it to Mrs. O'Connor's millinery establishment, and 
asked the privilege of opening it there. Imagine my 
astonishment and delight, when I beheld a pattern 
of fine grey cassimere. I felt of it, and held it up 
between my eyes and the light. There was nothing 
shoddy about it. It was indeed a piece of fine cassi- 
mere, finer and better than anything I could have 
procured in Atlanta at that time. The circumstance 
was suggestive of Elijah and the ravens, and I 
thanked God for the gift so opportune, and lost no 
time in returning to the drug store, and thanking 
King, the raven employed by the Lord to clothe one 
of His little ones. Nor did I lose any time in adding 
to the package other articles of necessity, flannel and 
the best Georgia made homespun I could procure, 



14 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and was then ready to take the return train to Deca- 
tur. Thomie was deeply touched by the opportune 
gift, and said that King was a great boy, and that he 
must see him. 

After supper I clandestinely left the house, and ran 
around to Todd McAllister's and begged him to take 
the job of making the suit. He agreed to cut the 
coat, vest and pantaloons by measure, and for that 
purpose went home with me, shears and tape measure 
in hand. Having finished this important part of the 
job, he told me he could not make the suit himself, 
but he thought if I would "talk right pretty to the 
old lady,'' she would do it. Next morning I lost no 
time in "talking pretty" to the old lady, and, having 
secured her promise to undertake the work, it was 
soon in her hands. With the help of faithful, efficient 
women, and I suspect of her husband, too, the job 
was executed surprisingly soon. In the meantime 
the making of flannel garments, and homespun shirts 
with bosoms made of linen pillow cases, was pro- 
gressing with remarkable celerity. 

When all was finished, and Thomie was arrayed in 
his new suit, which set admirably well — notwith- 
standing the room allowed for increasing dimensions, 
which we doubted not under good treatment he would 
attain — King Solomon, in purple and fine linen, was 
not looked upon with more admiration, than was he 
by his loving mother and sisters. His cough had in 
a measure yielded to remedies, and his cheeks bore 
the tinge of better blood. 



DURING THE WAR. 15 

Good Mr. Ijevi Willard, his wife and children, had 
already been to see Thomie and the strangers within 
our gates, and many others had already sent kind 
messages and substantial tokens of regard. And the 
young people of Decatur, young ladies and little 
boys, were planning to give them a surprise party. 
And among these loving attentions was a visit from 
King, the faithful. 

The flowers bloomed prettier, the birds sang 
sweeter, because of their presence ; but time Avaits for 
no man, and we were admonished by low conversa- 
tions and suggestive looks that these men, officers in 
the army of the Confederacy, were planning their 
departure. 

Many amusing incidents, as well as those of a hor- 
rible character, were told of their prison life in Camp 
Chase. To illustrate the patriotism of Southern men. 
Col. Deshler, as a prisoner of war, figured conspic- 
uously; and many anecdotes ludicrous and pathetic, 
quaint and original, revealed the deep devotion of his 
love for the South. In one of these word-paintings, 
he was represented as sitting on his legs, darning the 
seat of his pantaloons, when a feminine curiosity 
seeker came along. When she perceived his occupa- 
tion, she said with a leer that would have done credit 
to Lucifer: 

'' You rebels find it pretty hard work to keep your 
gray duds in order, don't you?" 

^yithout looking at her, he whistled in musical 
cadence the contempt he felt for her and her ilk; and 



16 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the imprecations, he would not have expressed in 
words, were so distinct and well modulated as to 
leave no doubt as to their meaning. 

The time had come for the nature of the low-toned 
conversations, referred to, to be revealed, and Thomie 
was chosen to make the revelation. Planning to 
have mother and sisters present, he discussed the 
duties of patriotism, and the odium men brought 
upon themselves by not discharging those duties. 
Making the matter personal, he referred to himself 
and friends, to the great pleasure and personal benefit 
derived from a wreck's sojourn at home; of the love 
for us that would ever linger in their hearts; of the 
pleasant memories that would nerve them in future 
conflicts; and in conclusion told us that to-morrow 
they would leave us to join their command at Tulla- 
homa, where the decimated regiment was to stay until 
its numbers were sufficiently recruited for service. 

Instead of yielding to grief, we repressed every 
evidence of it, and spoke only words of encourage- 
ment to these noble men who had never shirked a 
duty, or sought bomb-proof positions in the army of 
the Confederacy. After this interview, Thomie aban- 
doned himself to cheerfulness, to almost boyish gaiety. 
He kept very close to his mother. She had grown 
old so rapidly since the troubles began, that she 
needed all the support that could be given her in this 
ordeal. This he perceived without seeming to do so, 
and left nothing within his power undone for her 
He even discussed with perfect 



• DURING THE WAR. 17 

oquaninilty the probability, yea, the more than prob- 
ability, of his getting killed in battle; for, said he, 
'Mie that taketh uj) the sword, by the sword shall he 
perish." And, he added, ^'strong, irrepressible con- 
victions constrained nie to enter the army in defense 
of mother, home and conntry. ^ly vote was cast for 
the secession of my state from the union of states 
which existed only in name, and I would not have 
accepted any position tendered me which would have 
secured me from the dangers involved by that step. 
I was willing to give my life, if need be, for the 
cause which should be dear to every Southern heart." 

Every one present responded to these noble senti- 
ments, for were we not soldiers, too, working for the 
same noble cause, and aiding and abetting those who 
fought its battles? 

Before retiring to our rooms. Captain Lauderdale, 
as usual, led in prayer, fervent deep and "soul-support- 
ing, more for our mother and ourselves than for him- 
self and his comrades in their perilous positions. 
And dear Thomie, whom I had never heard pray 
since his cradle invocation, 

"Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep," 

finished in words thrilling and beautiful. The effect 
was electrical. Tears and sobs were no longer 
repressed, and all found relief from long pent-up 
feeling. O, the blessedness of tears! 

Morning came, clear as crystal, and cool and exhil- 
arating. The household were up at early dawn. A 



18 LIFE IN DIXIE 

strong decoction of coiiee was prepared, and fresh 
cream toast and boiled eggs, meat relishes, being served 
cold. Knapsacks — there were knapsacks now — 
were packed, and blankets rolled and buckled in 
straps, and our ebony Confederates, Toby and Telitha, 
stood ready to convey them to the depot. In order 
to meet the morning train at seven o'clock we started, 
but the services of Toby and Telitha were not 
accepted. The gentlemen said it would never do for 
soldiers to start oif to report for service with negroes 
carrying their knapsacks and blankets. They had no 
muskets to shoulder, for of these they had been 
divested at Arkansas Post, months ago, when cap- 
tured by the enemy. 

Lieutenant McMurray, who was in very feeble 
health, announced himself unable to report for duty, 
and remained with us several weeks longer. 

The parting at the depot did not betray the grief, 
almost without earthly hope, that was rankling in 
our hearts, and the ''good-bye's" and ''God bless 
you's" were uttered with a composure we little 
thought at our command. 

As the time of his departure had drawn near, 
Thomie had sought opportunities to tell me much 
of the young girl in Texas, who had healed the lacer- 
ations of his youthful heart, and won the admiration 
of his manhood, and whom he had made his wife. 
Upon her devotion he dwelt with peculiar pathos and 
gratitude; and he concluded these conversations with 
the request that under any and all circumstances I 



DURING THE WAR. 19 

would be a sister to her. On one of these occasions 
we were standing near the piano, and, when we ceased 
to talk, Thomie opened it, and in tones that came 
from the heart, and that were tremulous with emotion, 
he sang, '^When this cruel war is over." 

Why sings the swan its sweetest notes, 
When life is near its close? 

Since writing the foregoing, I have had access to a 
journal, kept during the war by my half-sister, Mis- 
souri Stokes, in which are the following entries of 
historic value: ^^On the 11th of January, 1863, 
Arkansas Post, the fort where Thomie was stationed, 
fell into the hands of the Yankees. General Church- 
hill's whole command, numbering about four thou- 
sand, were captured, a few being killed and wounded. 
We knew that Thomie, if alive, must be a prisoner, 
but could hear no tidings from him. Our suspense 
continued until the latter part of March, when ma 
received a letter from our loved one, written at Camp 
Chase, (military prison) Ohio, February 10th. This 
letter she forwarded to me, and I received it, March 
21st, with heartfelt emotions of gratitude to Him 
who had preserved his life. A few weeks afterwards 
another letter came, saying he expected to be 
exchanged in a few days, and then for several weeks 
we heard no more." 

From this journal I learn that the date of Thomie's 
arrival was May 16th, 1863. My sister wrote of him : 
"He seemed much changed, although only four years 
■and a half had elapsed since we parted. He looked 



20 LIFE IN DIXIE 

older, thinner, and more care-worn, ^^nd gray hairs are 
sprinkled among his dark brown curls. His health 
had been poor in the army, and then, when he left 
Camp Chase, he, as well as the other prisoners, was 
stripped by the Yankees of nearly all his warm cloth- 
ing. He left the pri.son in April, and was exchanged 
at City Point. How strange the dealings of Provi- 
dence. Truly was he led by a way he knew not. 
He went out to Texas by way of the West, and 
returned home from the East. God be thanked for 
preserving liis life, when so many of his comrades 
have died. He is a miracle of mercy. After their 
capture, they were put on boats from which Yankee 
small-pox patients had been taken. Some died of 
small-pox, but Thoniie had had varioloid and so 
escaped. He was crowded on a boat with twenty- 
two hundred, and scarcely had standing room. Many 
died on the passage up the river, one poor fellow 
with his head in Tommy's lap. May he never go 
through similar scenes again!" 

From this same journal I take the following, writ- 
ten after Missouri^s return to the school she was teach- 
ing in Bartow county: 

'^Sabbath morning, June 14th. Went to Carters- 
ville to church. Some time elapsed before preaching 
commenced. A soldier came in, sat down rather 
behind me, then, rising, approached me. It wan 
Thomie. I soon found (for we did talk in church) 
that he had an order to join Kirby Smith, with a 
recommendation from Bragg that he be allowed to 



DUBING THE WAB. 21 

recruit for his regiment. Fortunately there was a 
vacant seat in the carriage, so he went out home with 
us. Monday 15th, Tommy left. I rode with him a 
little beyond the school house, then took ray books 
and basket, and with one kiss, and, on my part, a 
tearful good-bye, we parted. As I walked slowly 
back, I felt so lonely. He had been with me just 
long enough for me to realize a brother's kind pro- 
tection, and now he's torn away, and I'm again alone. 
I turned and looked. He was driving slowly along — 
he turned a corner and was hidden from my view. 
Shall I see him no more? Or shall we meet again? 
God only knows. After a fit of weeping, and one 
earnest prayer for him, I turned my steps to my little 
school." 

And thus our brother went back to Texas, and 
gladly, too, for was not his Mary there? 

Of Thomie's recall to join his command at Daltou; 
of his arrival at home the next February, on his way 
to ''the front;" of his participation in the hard-fought 
battles that contested the way to Atlanta; and of his 
untimely death at the fatal battle of Franklin, Ten- 
nessee, I may speak hereafter. 

Even in the spring and summer of 1863, the 
shadows began to deepen, and to hearts less sanguine 
than mine, affairs were assuming a gloomy aspect. 
I notice in this same journal from which I have 
quoted the foregoing extrac^ts, the following: 

''Our fallen braves, how numerous! Among bur 
generals, Zollicoffer, Ben McCulloch, Albert Sidney 



22 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Johnson, and the saintly dauntless Stonewall Jackson, 
are numbered with the dead; while scarcely a house- 
hold in our land does not mourn the loss of a brave 
husband and father, son or brother/' 



DURING J HE WAR. 28 



CHAPTER II. 

80ME SOCIAL FEATURES. 

Morgan's Men rendezvous near Decatur — Waddell's Artil- 
lery — Visits from the Texans— Surgeon Haynie and his 
Song. 

In the winter of 1864 there seems to have been a lull 
of hostilities between the armies at 'Hhe front." Mor- 
gan's men were rendezvousing near Decatur. Their 
brave and dashing chief had been captured, but had 
made his escape from the Ohio penitentiary, and was 
daily expected. Some artillery companies were camp- 
ing near, among them WaddelPs. There was also a 
conscript camp within a mile or tw^o; so it is not to 
be wondered at that the young ladies of Decatur 
availed themselves in a quiet way of the social enjoy- 
ment the times afforded, and that there were little 
e:atherings at private houses at which '^Morgan's 
men" and the other soldiers were frequently repre- 
sented. 

Our brother was absent in Texas, where he had 
been assigned to duty, but my sister was at home, and 
many an hour's entertainment her music gave that 
winter to the soldiers and to the young people of 
Decatur. My mother's hospitality was proverbial, 



24 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and much of our time these wintry months was spent 
in entertaining our soldier guests, and in ministering 
to the sick in the Atlanta hospitals, and in the camps 
and temporary hospitals about Decatur. 

So near were we now to ''the front," (about a hun- 
dred miles distant), that several of my brother's Texas 
comrades obtained furloughs and came to see us. 
Among these were Lieutenants Prendergast and Jew- 
ell, Captain Leonard and Lieutenant Collins, Captain 
Bennett and Lieutenant Donathan. They usually had 
substantial boots made while here, by Smith the 
Decatur boot and shoe maker, which cost less than 
those they could have bought in Atlanta. 

We received some very pleasant calls from Morgan's 
men and Waddell's Artillery. Among the latter we 
have always remembered a young man from Alabama, 
James Duncan Calhoun, of remarkable intellectual 
ability, refreshing candor, and refinement of manner. 
Ever since the w^ar, Mr. Calhoun has devoted himself 
to journalism. Among the former, we recall Lieu- 
tenant Adams, Messrs. Gill, Dupries, Clinkinbeard, 
Steele, Miller, Fortune, Rowland, Baker and Dr. 
Lewis. These gentlemen w^ere courteous and intelli* 
gent, and evidently came of excellent Kentucky and 
Tennessee families. 

One evening several of these gentlemen had taken 
tea with us, and after supper the number of our guests 
was augmented by the coming of Dr. Ruth, of Ken- 
tucky, and Dr. H. B. Haynie, surgeon of the 14th 
Tennessee Cavalry. Dr. Haynie was an elderly, gray 



DVRINa THE WAR. 25 

haired man, of line })resence, and with the courtly 
manners of the old school. On being unanimously 
requested, he sang us a song entitled: ^'The Wail- 
ings at Fort Delaware," which he had composed when 
an inmate of that wretched prison. As one of the 
gentlemen remarked, ''there is more truth than poetry 
in it;" yet there are in it some indications of poetic 
genius, and Dr. Haynie sang it with fine eflPect. 

-THE WAILINGS AT FORT DJ]LAWARE;' 

By B. H. Haynie, Surgeon 14th Tennessee Cavalry, (Morgan's Division.) 

Oh ! here we are confined at Fort Delaware, 
With nothing to drinlv but a little lager beer, 
Infested by vermin as much as we can bear; 
Oh Jeif. can't you help us to get away from here? 

Chorus — 

And its home, dearest home, the place I ought to be, 
Home, sweet home, way down in Tennessee, 
Where the ash and the oak and the bonny willow tree, 
Are all growing green way down in Tennessee. 

The Island itself will do well enough, 
But the flat-footed Dutch are tilth y and rough. 
Oh ! take us away from the vandal clan. 
Down into Dixie among gentlemen. 

Chorus. — And its home, dearest home, etc. 

Spoiled beef and bad soup is our daily fare, 

And to complain is more than any dare; 

They will buck us and gag us, and cast us in a cell, 

There to bear the anguish and torments of hell. 

Chorus — 



26 LIFE IN DIXIE 

The den for our eating is anything but clean, 
And the filth upon the tables is plainh'^to be seen, 
And the smell of putrefaction rises on the air, 
"To fill out the bill" of our daily fare. 
Chorus — 

"*"The sick are well treated,'" as Southern surgeons say, 
"And the losses by death are scarcely four per day; 
It's diarrhoea mixture for scurvy and small-pox, 
And every other disease of Pandora's box. 
Chorus — 

Oh ! look at the graveyard on the Jersey shore. 
At the hundreds and the thousands who'll return no more; 
Oh, could they come back to testify — 
Against the lying devils, and live to see them die ! 
Chorus — 

"•'■" Our kindness to prisoners you cannot deny. 
For we have the proof at hand upon which you may rely ; 
It's no Dutch falsehood, nor a Yankee trick, 
But from Southern surgeons who daily see the sick." 
Chorus — 

Our chaplain, whose heart was filled with heavenly joys, 
Asked leave to pray and preach to Southern boys; 
"Oh, no!" says the General, "you are not the man. 
You are a Southern rebel, the vilest of your clan ! " 
Chorus — 

Oh, speak out. 3'oung soldier, and let your country hear. 
All about your treatment at Fort Delaware ; 
How they worked you in their wagons when weary and sad. 
With only half rations, when plenty they had. 
Chorus — 

The barracks were crowded to an overflow. 
Without a single comfort on the soldier to bestow; 
Oh, there they stood shivering in hopeless despair. 
With insuflicient diet or clothing to wear! 
Chorus — 



DUIUNd THE WAR. 27 

The mother stood weeping in sorrows of woe, 
Mingling her tears with the waters that flow; 
Her son was expiring at Fort Delaware, 
Which could have been avoided with prudence and care. 
Chorus — 

Oh ! take off my fetters and let me go free, 
To roam o'er the mountains of old Tennessee; 
To bathe in her waters and breathe her balmy air, 
And look upon her daughters so lovely and fair. 
Chorus — 

Then, cheer up, my brave boys, your country will be free. 
Your battles will be fought by Generals Bragg and Lee; 
And the Yankees will fly with trembling and fear. 
And we'll return to our wives and sweethearts so dear. 
Chorus — 

And it's home, dearest home, the place I ought to be, 
Home, sweet home, way down in Tennessee, 
Where the ash and the oak, and the bonnj' willow tree. 
Are all growing green way down in Tennessee. 



*The fifth and seventh verses are a criticism upon four Southern sur 
geons, who gave the Federal authorities a certificate that our prisoners were 
well treated, and our sick well cared for, and that the average loss by death 
was only four per day. 



28 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER III. 
THOMIE'S SECOND HOME COMING. 

He leaves for "the front"— His Christian labors in camp- 
He describes the Battle of New Hope Church — The 
great revival in Johnston's Army. 

Early one morning in the February of the winter 
just referred to (that of 1864), as my sister lay awake, 
she heard some one step upon the portico and knock. 
As Toby opened the door, she heard him exclaim: 
'^Why howdV, Marse Thomie!'^ Her first thought 
was " now he is back, just in time to be in the battle ! " 
for a resumption of hostilities was daily looked for 
near Dalton. We were all greatly surprised at 
Thomie's arrival on this side of the Mississippi, as 
only a few days before we had received a letter from 
him, written, it is true, so long ago as the November 
before, saying he had been assigned to duty out in 
Texas by General Henry McCulloch. But the con- 
solidation of the regiments in Granberry's brigade 
having been broken up, he had been ordered back 
to rejoin his old command. He had left Marshall, 
Texas, the 28th of January, having made the trip in 
one month, and having walked four hundred miles of 
the way. Under the circumstances, we were both 



DURING THE WAR. 'IS) 

glad aud .sorrowful at his return. After a stay of 
three days, he left us for '' the front." In tlie early 
morning of February 29th, we went with him to the 
depot, the last time we four were ever together. Part- 
ing from him was a bitter trial to our mother, who 
wept silently as we walked back to the desolate home, 
no longer gladdened by the sunny presence of the only 
son and brother. Perhaps nothing will give a more 
graphic impression of some phases of army life at 
this time, nor a clearer insight into our brother's 
character, than a few extracts from his letters written 
at this period to his sister Missouri, and preserved by 
her to this day : 

"Dalton, Ga., March 15th, 1864.— ^^ - - 
Our regiment takes its old organization as the 10th 
Texas, and Colonel Young has been despatched to 
Texas to gather all the balance, under an order from 
the war department. We are now in Dalton doing 
provost duty (our regiment), which is very unpleas- 
ant duty. It is my business to examine all papers 
whenever the cars arrive, and its very disagreeable to 
have to arrest persons who haven't proper papers. 
The regulations about the town are very strict. No 
one under a brigadier general can pass without 
approved papers; My guard arrested General John- 
ston himself, day before yesterday. Xot knowing 
him they wouldn't take his word for it, but demanded 
his papers. The old General, very good humoredly, 
showed them some orders he had issued himself, and 
being satisfied, they let him pass. He took it good 



80 LIFE IN DIXIE 

hunioredly, while little colonels .and majors become 
very indignant and wrathy under such circumstances. 
From which we learn, first, the want of good com- 
mon sense, and, secondly, that a great man is an 
humble man, and does not look with contempt upon 
his inferiors in rank, whatsoever that rank may be. 

'^ There is a very interesting meeting in progress 
here. I get to go every other night. I have seen 
several baptized since I have been here. There are 
in attendance every evening from six to seven 
hundred soldiers. There are many who go to the 
anxious seat. Three made a profession of religion 
night before last. I am going to-night. There 
seems to be a deep interest taken and God grant the 
good work may go on, until the whole army may be 
made to feel where they stand before their Maker. 
Write soon. 

Your affectionate brother, 

Tom Stokes." 
From another letter we take the folloAving: 
^'Near Dalton, April oth, 1864.— We have had for 
some weeks back, very unsettled Aveather, which has 
rendered it very disagreeable, though we haven't suf- 
fered; we have an old tent Avhich affords a good deal 
of protection from the Aveather. It has also inter- 
fered some Avith our meetings, though there is preach- 
ing nearly CA-ery night that there is not rain. Brother 
Hughes came up and preached for us last Friday 
night and seemed to give general satisfaction. He 
Avas plain and practical, Avhich is the only kind of 



DUBINO J HE WAR. 31 

preaching that does good in the army. He 
promised to come back again. I like him 
very much. Another old brother, named Campbell, 
whom I heard when I was a boy, preached for us 
on Sabbath evening. There was much feeling, and at 
the close of the services he invited mourners to the 
anxious seat, and I shall never forget that blessed 
half hour that followed; from every part of that great 
congregation they came, many with streaming 
eyes came; and, as they gave that old patri- 
arch their hands, asked that God's people would 
pray for them. Yes, men who never shrank in battle 
from any responsibility, came forward weeping. Such 
is the power of the Gospel of Christ when preached 
in its purity. Oh, that all ministers of Christ could, 
or would, realize the great responsibility resting upon 
them as His ambassadors. Sabbath night we had serv- 
ices again, and also last night, both well attended, 
and to-night, weather permitting, I will preach. God 
help me and give me grace from on high, that I may 
be enabled, as an humble instrument in His hands, to 
speak the truth as it is in Jesus, for ^none but Jesus, 
none but Jesus, can do helpless sinners good.' I 
preached last Sabbath was too weeks ago to a large 
and attentive congregation. There seemed to be 
much seriousness, and although much embarrassed, 
yet I tried, under God, to feel that I was but in the 
discharge of my duty ; and may I ever be found bat- 
tling for my Savior. Yes, my sister, I had rather be 
an humble follower of Christ than to wear the crown 



32 LIFE IN DIXIE 

of a mouarch. Remember me at all times at a 
Throue of Grace, that my life may be spared to 
become a useful minister of Christ. 

'^ Since my return we have established a prayer- 
meeting in our company, or, rather, a kind of fam- 
ily service, every uight after roll-call. There is one 
other company which has prayer every night. Cap- 
tain F. is very zealous. There are four in our com- 
pany who pray in public — one sergeant, a private, 
Captain F. and myself. AVe take it time about. We 
have cleared up a space, fixed a stand and seats, and 
have a regular preaching place. I have never seen 
such a spirit as there is now in the army. Religion 
is the theme. Everywhere, you hear around the 
campfires at night the sweet songs of Zion. This 
spirit pervades the whole army. God is doing a glori- 
ous work, and I believe it is but the beautifnl prelude 
to peace. I feel confident that if the enemy should 
attempt to advance, that God will fight our battles 
for us, and the boastful foe be scattered and severely 
rebuked. 

^' I witnessed a scene the other evening, which did 
my heart good — the baptism of three men in the 
creek near the encampment. To see those hardy 
soldiers taking up their cross and following their Mas- 
ter in His ordinance, being buried with Him in bap- 
tism, was indeed a beautiful sight. I really believe, 
Missouri, that there is more religion now in the army 
than among the thousands of skulkers, exempts and 
speculators at home. There are but few now but 



DURING THE WAR. 33 

who will talk freely with you upon the subject of 
their souPs salvation. What a change, what a 
change! when one year ago card playing and profane 
language seemed to be the order of the day. Now, 
what is the cause of this change? Manifestly the 
working of God's spirit. He has chastened His peo- 
ple, and this manifestation of His love seems to be 
an earnest of the good things in store for us in not a 
far away future. ' Whom the Lord loveth He chasten- 
eth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.' 
Let all the people at home now, in unison with the 
army, humbly bow, acknowledge the afflicting hand 
of the Almighty, ask Him to remove the curse upon 
His own terms, and soon we will hear, so far as our 
Nation is concerned, ' Glory to God in the highest, 
on earth peace, good Avill towards men!' 

" I received the articles ma sent by Brother Hughes, 
which were much relished on the top of the coarse fare 
of the army. >{^ * >K Write me often. God bless 
you in your labors to do good. 

'^ Your affectionate brother, 

T. J. Stokes." 

From another of those timed-stained, but precious 
letters, we cull the following, under the heading of: 

^an Camp, Near Dalton, Ga., April 18, 1864.— 
* * * The good work still goes on here. Thirty 
men were baptized at the creek below our brigade 
yesterday, and I have heard from several other brig- 
ades in which the proportion is equally large (though 
the thirty-one were not all members of this brigade). 



84 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Taking the proportion in the whole army as heard 
from (and I have only heard from a part of one corps), 
there must have been baptized yesterday, 150 per- 
sons — maybe 200. This revival spirit is not confined 
to a part only, but pervades the whole army. * ^^ 
'^ Brother Hughes was with us the other night, but 
left again the next morning. The old man seemed to 
have much more influence in the army than young 
men. I have preached twice since writing to you, 
and the Spirit seemed to be with me. The second 
was upon the crusifixiou of Christ : text in the .53d 
chapter of Isaiah: ^He was wounded for our trans- 
gressions, and bruised for our iniquities.' It was the 
first time in my life, that is, in public speaking, 
that my feelings got so much the mastery of me as to 
make me weep like a child. In the conclusion I 
asked all who felt an interest in the prayers of God's 
people to come to the anxious seat. Many presented 
themselves, and I could hear many among them, with 
sobs and groans, imploring God to have mercy on 
them, and I think the Lord did have mercy upon 
them, for when we opened the door of the church six 
united with us. Every Sabbath you may see the mul- 
titude wending their way to the creek to see the sol- 
emn ordinance typical of the death, burial, and resur- 
rection of our Savior. Strange to say that a large 
number of those joining the pedo-Baptist branches pre- 
fer being immersed; though in the preaching you 
cannot tell to Avhich denomination a man belongs. 
This is as it should be; Christ and him crucified 



DURING THE WAR. 36 

should be the theme. It is time enough, I think, 
after one is converted, to choose his church rule of 
faith. 

" If this state of things should continue for any con- 
siderable length of time, wc will have in the Army of 
Tennessee an army of believers. Does the history 
of the world record any where the like? Even Crom- 
vvelPs time sinks into insignificance. A revival so 
vast in its proportions, and under all the difficulties 
attending camp life, the bad weather this spring, and 
innumerable difficulties, is certainly an earnest of bet- 
ter, brighter times not far in the future." 

To the believer in Jesus, we feel sure that these 
extracts concerning this remarkable work of grace, 
will prove of deep interest; so we make no apolo- 
gies for quoting, in continuation, the following from 
another of those letters of our soldier brother, to 
whom the conquests of the cross were the sweetest of 
all themes : 

^^Near Dalton, April 28th. 1864.— My Dear 
Sister : I should have written sooner but have been 
very much engaged, and when not engaged have 
felt more like resting than writing, and, to add to this, 
sister Mary very agreeably surprised me by coming 
up on last Saturday. She left on Tuesday morning 
for home. While she was at Dalton, I went down on 
each day and remained until evening. I fear ma and 
sister are too much concerned about me, and therefore 
render themselves unhappy. Would that they could 
trust God calmly for the issue. And I fear, too, that 



36 LIFE IN DIXIE 

they deny themselves of many comforts, that they 
may furnish me with what I could do (as many have 
to do) without. 

^ >ic >i< :^ >!i ^ 

"The great unexampled revival is fast increasing 
in interest. T have just returned from the creek, 
where I saw thirty-three buried Avith Christ in bap- 
tism, acknowledging there, before two thousand per- 
sons, that they were not ashamed to folloAv Jesus in 
His ordinance. My soul was made happy in witness- 
ing the solemn scene. In that vast audience every- 
thing Avas as quiet and respectful as in a A^llage 
chapel; and, by the AA^ay, I ha\^e seen village congre- 
grations Avho might come here and learn to beha\"e. 
General Lowry baptized about thirteen of them who 
were from his brigade. He is a Christian, a soldier 
and a zealous preacher, and his influence is great. It 
Avas truly a beautiful sight to see a general baptizing 
his men. He preaches for our brigade next Sabbath. 
I preached for General Polk's brigade night before 
last, and aa^c had a very interesting meeting. They 
have just begun there, yet I had a congregation of 
some 400. At the conclusion of the services, I 
invited those Avho desired an interest in our prayers to 
manifest their desire by coming to the altar. A 
goodly number presented themselves, and Ave prayed 
with them. I shall preach for them again A^ery soon. 
The revival in our brigade has continued noAV for 
four Aveeks, nearly, and many have found peace AAdth 
their Savior. If aa^c could remain stationary a few 



DURING THE WAR. 37 

weeks longer, I believe the greater portion of the 
army would be converted. This is all the doings of 
the Lord, and is surely the earnest of the- great deliv- 
erance in store for us. This is the belief of many, 
that this is ^the beginning of the end.' From all 
parts of the army the glad tidings comes that a great 
revival is in progress. I wish I had time to write to 
you at length. One instance of the power of His 
spirit: A lieutenant of oar regiment, and heretofore 
very wild, became interested, and for nearly three 
weeks seemed ^roaninp' in aaronv. The other dav he 
came around to see me, and, with a face beaming with 
love, told me he had found Christ, and that his only 
regret now was that he had not been a Christian all 
his life. It is growing dark. I must close. jNIore 
anon. Affectionately, 

Your Bk()thp:k." 

We take up the next letter in the order of time. 
It is numbered 25. The envelope is of brown wrap- 
ping paper, but neatly made, and has a blue Confed- 
erate 10 ct. postage stamp. It is addressed to my 
sister, who was then teaching at Corinth, Heard 
county, Georgia. It is dated: 

'^Xear Dalton, May 5th, 1864." After speak- 
ing of having to take charge, early the next morning 
of the brigade picket guard, Thomie goes on to say : 

^' The sun's most down, but I think I can fill these 
little pages before dark. Captain F., coming in 
at this time, tells me a dispateli has just been 



38 LIFE IN DIXIE 

received to the effect that the Yankees are advancing 
in the direction of Tunnell Hill, but thay have made so 
many feints in that direction lately that we have 
become used to them, so don't be uneasy. 

^^The great revival is going on with widening and 
deepening interest. Last Sabbath I saw eighty-three 
immersed at the creek below our brigade. Four were 
sprinkled at the stand before going down to the 
creek, and two down there, making an aggregate 
within this vicinity of eighty-nine, while the same 
proportion, I suppose, are turning to God in other 
parts of the army, making the grand aggregate of 
many hundreds. Yesterday 1 saw sixty-five more 
baptized, forty more who were to have beei:; there, fail- 
ing to come because of an order to be ready to move at 
any moment. They belonged to a more distant brig- 
ade. * * If we do not move before Monday, Sab- 
bath wil! be a day long to be remembered — ^the 
w^ater will,' indeed, M:>e troubled.' Should we remain 
three weeks longer, the glad tidings may go forth 
that the Army of Tennessee is the army of the Lord. 
But He knowxth best what is for our good, and if He 
see proper can so order His providence as to keep 
us here. His will be done." 

The next letter is addressed to me, but was sent to 
my sister at his request, and is dated "Altooua Moun- 
tains, Near Night, May 22d." He writes: 

" Oh, it grieved my very soul when coming through 
the beautiful Oothcaloga valley, to think of the sad 
fate which awaited it when the foul invader should 



DURING IHE WAR. 39 

occupy that ' vale of beauty/ We formed line of 
battle at the creek, at the old Eads' place; our brig- 
ade was to the left as you go up to Mr. Law's old 
place on the hill, where we stayed once when pa was 
sick. Right there, with a thousand dear recollections 
of by-gone days crowding my mind, in the valley of 
my boyhood, I felt as if I could hurl a host back. 
We fought them and whipped them, until, being 
flanked, we were compelled to fall back. We fought 
them again at Qass Station, driving them in our front, 
but, as before, and for the same reason, we were com- 
pelled to retreat. 

^^ As I am requested to hold prayer-meeting this 
evening at sunset, T must close." 

Thomie's next letter, in this collection, is addressed 
to his sister Missouri, who had returned home, and is 
headed, simply, ^^Army of Tennessee, May 31st." It 
is written in a round, legible, but somewhat delicate 
hand, and gives no evidence of nervousness or hurry. 
To those fond of war history it will be of special 
interest : 

"Our brigade, in fact our division, is in a more 
quiet place now than since the commencement of this 
campaign. We were ordered from the battlefield on 
Sunday morning to go and take position in support- 
ing distance of the left wing of the army, where we 
arrived about tbe middle of the forenoon, and 
remained there until yeterday evening, when our divis- 
ion was ordered back in rear of the left centre, where 



40 LIFE IN DIXIE 

we are now. Contrary to all expectations, we have 
remained here perfectly quiet, there being no heavy 
demonstration by the enemy upon either wing. We 
were very tired and this rest has been a great help to 
us; for being a reserve and flanking division, we have 
had to trot from one wing of the army to the other, 
and support other troops. 

:^ >K >!< >i< ::|< ;[< 

" Well, perhaps you would like to hear something 
from me of the battle of New Hope Church, on Fri- 
day evening, 27th' inst. We had been, since the day 
before, supporting some other troops about the centre 
of the right wing, when, I suppose about 2 o'clock, 
we were hurried off to the extreme right to meet a 
heavy force of the enemy trying to turn our right. A 
few minutes later, and the whole army might now 
have been in the vicinity of Atlanta; but, as it was, 
we arrived in the nick of time, for before we were 
properly formed the enemy were firing into us rap- 
idly. We fronted to them, however, and then com- 
menced one of the hottest engagements, so far, of 
this campaign. We had no support, and just one 
single line against a whole corps of the enemy, and a 
lieutenant of the 19th Arkansas, wounded and cap- 
tured by them and subsequently retaken by our brig- 
ade, stated that another corps of the enemy came 
up about sundown. The fighting of our men, to those 
who admire warfare, was magnificent. You could see 
a pleasant smile playing upon the countenances of 



DUJRING THE WAR. 41 

many of the men, as they would cry out to the Yan- 
kees, 'Come on, we are demoralized!' 

"One little incident right here, so characteristic of 
the man, Major Kennard, of whom T have told you 
often (lately promoted), was, as usual, encouraging 
the men by his battle cry ot 'put your trust in God, 
men, for He is with us,' but concluded to talk to the 
Yankees awhile, sang out to them, 'Come on, we are 
demoralized,' when the Major was pretty severely 
wounded in the head, though not seriously, when rais- 
ing himself up, he said: 

'"Boys, I told tiem a lie, and I believe that is the 
reason I got shot.' 

"The fighting was very close and desperate and 
lasted until after dark. About 11 o'clock at night, 
three regiments of our brigade charged the enemy, 
our regiment among them. AYe went over ravines, 
rocks, and almost precipices, running the enemy 
entirely off the field. We captured many prisoners, 
and all of their dead and many of their 
wounded fell into our hands. This charge 
was a desperate and reckless thing, and if the 
enemy had made any resistance they could have cut 
us all to pieces. I hurt my leg slightly in falling 
down a cliff of rocks, and when we started back to 
our original lilie of battle, I thought I would go back 
alone and pick my way ; so I bore off" to the left, got 
lost, and completely bewildered between two armies. 
I copy from my journal: 

"'Here I was, alone in the darkness of midniglit, 



42 LIFE IN DIXIE 

with the Avounded^ the dying, the dead. What an 
hour of horror ! I hope never again to experience 
such. I am not superstitious, but the great excite- 
ment of seven hours of fierce conflict, ending with a 
bold, and I might say reckless, charge — for Ave knew 
not what Avas in our front — and then left entirely 
alone, causes a mental and physical depression that 
for one to fully appreciate he must be surrounded by 
the same circumstances. My feelings in battle were 
nothing to compare AA'ith this hour. After going first 
one Avay and then another, and not bettering my case, 
I heard some one slipping along in the bushes. I com- 
manded him to halt, and enquired what regiment he 
belonged to, and was answered '^ 15th Wisconsin," so I 
took i\Ir. Wisconsin in, and ordered him to march 
before me — a nice pickle tor me then, had a prisoner 
and did not know where to go. Moved on, however, 
and finally heard some more men Avalking, hailed 
them, for I had become desperate, and Avas answered 
^' Mississipians." Oh, how glad I was ! The moon 
at this time was just rising, aud, casting her pale 
silvery rays through the dense woods, made CA^ery 
tree and shrub look like a spectre. I saw a tall, mus- 
cular Federal lying dead, and the moonlight shining 
in his face. His eyes Avere open and seemed to be 
riA'eted on me. I could not help but shudder. I 
soon found my regiment, and ^ Richard was himself 
again.'" 

^' I went out again, to see if I conld do anything 
for their wounded. Soon found one with his leg 



DIEING TJfK ]VAIx\ 43 

shot through, whom 1 told we would take care of. 
Another, shot in the head, ^vas crying out continually: 
^' Oh my God I oh my God!!" I asked him if we 
could do anything for him, but he replied that it 
would be of no use. I told him God would have 
mercy upon him, but his mind seemed to be wander- 
ing. I could not have him taken care of that night 
and, poor fellow, there he lay all night. 

^'The next morning I had the privilege of walking- 
over the whole ground, and such a scene! Here lay 
the wounded, the dying, and the dead, hundreds 
upon hundreds, in every conceivable position; some 
with contorted features, showing the agony of death, 
others as if quietly sleeping. I noticed some soft 
beardless faces which ill comported with the savage 
warfare in which they had been engaged. Hundreds 
of letters from mothers, sisters, and friends were 
found upon them, and ambrotvpes taken singly and 
in groups. Though they had been my enemies, my 
heart bled at the sickening scene. The wounded 
nearly all expressed themselves tired of the war. 

" For the numbers engaged upon our side, it is said 
to be the greatest slaughter of the enemy of any 
recent battle. Captain Hearne, the old adjutant of 
our regiment, was killed. Eight of our regiment 
were instantly killed, two mortally wounded, since 
dead. 

"I did not think of writing so much when I began, 
but it is the first opportunity of writing anything like 
a letter that I have had. Lieutenant McMurrav is 



44 LIFE IN DIXIE 

now in charge of the Texas hospital at Auburn, Ala- 
bama. 

" Well, you are now Aunt Missouri. Oh, that I 
could see my boy! Heaven has protected me thus 
far, and I hope that God will consider me through 
this dreadful ordeal, and protect me for Christ^s sake; 
not that there is any merit that I can offer, but I do 
hope to live that I may be an humble instrument 
in the hands of my God to lead others to him. I 
hold prayer in our company nearly every night when 
circumstances will permit, and the men don't go to 
sleep before we are quiet. Poor fellows, they are 
ever willing to join me, but often are so wearied I 
dislike to interrupt them. 

'' My sister, let our trust be confidently in God. 
He can save, or can destroy. Let us pray Him for 
peace. He can give it us ; not pray as if we were 
making an experiment, but pray believing God will 
ansAver our prayers, for we have much to pray for.'' 

My sister subsequently copied into her journal the 
following extract taken from his, and written soon 
after the Battle of New Hope Church : 

"May 31st, 1864. — Here we rest by a little mur- 
muring brook, singing along as if the whole world 
was at peace. I lay down last night and gazed away 
up in the peaceful heavens. All was quiet and serene 
up there, and the stars seemed to vie with each other 
in brightness and were fulfilling their allotted destiny. 
My comrades all asleep; nothing breaks the silence. 



DURING THE WAB. 45 

I leave earth for a time, and soar upon ^imagina- 
tion's wing' far away from this war-accursed land to 
where bright angels sing their everlasting songs of 
peace, and strike their harps along the golden streets 
of the New Jerusalem^ and the swelling music bursts 
with sweet accord throughout vast Heaven's eternal 
space!" 

;ic ^ >ti >[< :^ Jic 

Again on Sabbath, June 5th, he writes: ^^ No 
music of church bells is heard to-day summoning 
God's people to worship where the gospel is wont to 
be heard. We are near a large log church called 
Gilgal. What a different scene is presented to-day 
from a Sabbath four years ago, when the aged minis- 
ter of God read to a large and attentive congregation : 
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He 
maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He lead- 
eth me beside the still waters." O, God, wilt 
thou not interpose Thy strong arm to stop the bloody 
strife? Wilt Thou not hear the prayers of Thy peo- 
ple who daily say. Lord, give us peace? The Lord 
will answer, and soon white-robed peace will smile 
upon our unhappy country. O God, hasten the day, 
for w^e are sorely vexed, and Thine shall be all the 
glory." 

Ere peace was to dawn uj^on his beloved country, 
his own soul was to find it through the portals of 
death; but ere that time, save a brief interval of 
enforced rest, weary marchings and heart-breaking 
scenes and sorrows were to intervene. 



46 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Thomie's next letter is dated, ^^In the Field, uear 
Lost Mountain, June 14th/' and the next, " In the 
Ditches, June 22nd, 1864/' The next, '^Near Chat- 
tahoochee river, July 6th, 1864," tells of the retreat 
of the army from Kennasaw Mountain to Smyrna 
church, and of his having come oif safely from another 
"small fight" the day before, in which several of his 
comraxles were killed. 

Owiug to nervous prostration, and other illness, 
Thomie was soon after sent to the hospital at Macon, 
transferred from there to Augusta, and from the latter 
point given a leave of absence to visit his sister who 
had found refuge with her cousin, Mrs. T. J. Hills- 
man, a daughter of Rev. Wm. H. Stokes, of blessed 
memory. Here with his father's kindred, cheered 
by beautiful hospitality and cousinly aftection, our 
darling brother enjoyed the last sweet rest and quiet 
earth was e'er to give him before he slept beneath 
its sod. 



DURING THE WAB. 



CHAPTER IV. 

A visit to Dalton — The fidelity of an old-time slave. 

"From Atlanta to Dalton, .$7.75. From the 2;3ril 
to the 26th of April, 1864, to Mrs. John Reynolds 
for board, $20.00. From Dalton to Decatur, $8.00." 

The above statement of the expense attending a 
round trip to Dalton, Georgia, is an excerpt from a 
book which contains a record of every item of my 
expenditures for the year 1864. 

This trip was taken for the purpose of carrying pro- 
visions and articles of clothing to my brother and his 
comrades in General Joseph E. Johnston's command. 
In vain had our mother tried to send appetizing bas- 
kets of food to her son, whose soldier rations consisted 
of salty bacon and hard tack; some disaster, real or 
imaginary, always occurred to prevent them from 
reaching their destination, and it was, therefore, 
determined at home that I should carry the next 
consignment. 

After several days' preparation, jugs were filled 
with good sorghum syrup, and baskets with bread, 
pies and cakes and other edibles at our command, and 
sacks of potatoes and onions and peppers were included. 
My fond and loving mother and I, and our faithful 
aid-de-camps of African descent, conveyed them to 



48 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the depot. In those days the depot was a favorite 
resort with the ladies and children of Decatur. There 
thev always heard something from the front — where- 
ever that might be. The obliging agent had a way, 
all his own, of acquiring information from the army 
in all its varied commands, and dealt it out galore to 
the encouragement or discouragement of his auditors, 
as his prejudices or partialities prompted. On this 
occasion many had gone there who, like myself, were 
going to take the train for Atlanta, and in the interim 
were eager to hear everything of a hopeful character, 
even though reason urged that it was hoping against 
hope. 

I was the cynosure of all eyes, as I was going to 
'■'the front ;^^ and every mother who had a darling son 
in that branch of the army hoped that he would be the 
first to greet me on my arrival there, and give me a 
message for her. And I am sure, if the love con- 
signed to me for transmission could have assumed 
tangible form and weight, it would have been more 
than fourteen tons to the square inch. 

Helpful, willing hands deposited with care my well 
labeled jugs, baskets, etc., and I deposited myself 
Avith equal care in an already well filled coach on the 
Georgia Railroad. Arrived in Atlanta, I surrepti- 
tiously stowed the jugs in the car with me, and then 
asked the baggage-master to transfer the provisions to 
a Dalton freight train. Without seeming to do so, I 
watched his every movement until I saw the last 
article safely placed in the car, and then I went aboard 



DUBINO THE WAR. 49 

myself. SiuTounded by jugs and packages, I again 
became an object of interest, and soon found myself 
on familiar terms with all on board; for were we not 
friends and kindred bound to each other by the closest 
ties? Every age and condition of Southern life was 
represented in that long train of living, anxious 
freight. Young mothers, with wee bit tots chaperoned 
by their mothers, and sometimes by their grandmoth- 
ers, were going to see their husbands, perhaps the last 
time on earth; and mothers, feeling that another fond 
embrace of their sous would palliate the sting of final 
separation. The poor man and the rich man, fathers 
alike of men fighting the same battles in defense of 
the grandest principles that ever inspired mortal man 
to combat, on their way to see those men and leave 
their benedictions with them; and sisters, solitary and 
alone, going to see their beloved brothers, and assure 
them once more of the purest and most disinterested 
love that ever found lodgment in the human heart. 
Many and pleasant were the briet conversations be- 
tween those dissimilar in manners, habits and condi- 
tions in life; the great bond connecting them rendered 
every other consideration subordinate, and the rich 
and poor, the educated and ignorant met and mingled 
in harmonious intercourse. 

Those. were days of slow travel in the South. The 
roads were literally blockaded with chartered cars, 
which contained the household goods of refugees 
who had fled from the wrath and vandalism of the 
enemy, and not unfrequently refugees themselves 



50 LIFE IN DIXIE 

inhabited cars that seemed in fearful proximity to 
danger. Ample opportunity of observation on either 
side was furnished by this slow travel, and never did 
the fine aiable lands bordering the Western & Atlan- 
tic road, from the Chattahoochee river to Dalton, 
give greater promise of cereals, and trees in large 
variety were literally abloom with embryo fruit. 
Alas! that such a land shonld be destined to fall into 
the hands of despoilers. 

At Dalton I went immediately to the agent at the 
depot, Avhom I found to be my old frieud, John Rey- 
nolds, for the purpose of getting information regard- 
ing boarding houses. He told me his wife was in 
that line and would accommodate me, and, to render 
the application more easy, he gave me a note of intro- 
duction to her. 

A beautiful, well furnished room was given me, 
and a luscious supper possessed exhilarating properties. 

In the meantime Mr. Reynolds had, at my request, 
notified my brother, whom he knew, of my presence 
in his house, and I awaited his coming anxiously; 
but I was disappointed. A soldier's time is not his 
own, even in seasons of tranquility, and he was on 
duty and could not come then, but he assured me on 
a small scrap of paper, torn from his note-book, that 
he would come as soon as he could get off ^' to-mor- 
row morning.'' 

The waiting seemed very long, and yet it had its 
ending. The night was succeeded by a typical April 



DURING THE WAR. 51 

day, replete with sunshine and shower, and the hopes 
and fears of a people struggling for right over wrong. 

At length the cheery voice of him, wiio always had 
a pleasant word for every one, greeted me, and I hast- 
ened to meet him. That we might be quiet and 
undisturbed, I conducted him to my room, and a long 
and pleasant conversation ensued. 1 wish I had time 
and space to reca])itulate the conversation, for its 
every word and intonation are preserved in the 
archives of memory, and will enter the grand eterni- 
ties with me as free from discord as when first uttered. 
Our mother's failing health gave him concern, but 
his firm reliance on Him who doeth all things well, 
quieted his sad forel)odings and led the way to })leas- 
anter themes. 

He loved to dwell upon the quaint and innocent 
peculiarities of his younger sister, and as for his older 
one, it was very evident that he regarded her fully 
strong enough to ^' tote her own skillet," and " paddle 
her own canoe." 

A rap upon the door indicated that some one 
wished to see either one or the other of us. I re- 
sponded, and was met by a negro boy bearing a huge 
waiter, evidently well filled, and covered over with a 
snow-white cloth. The aroma from that waiter would 
have made a mummy smile. I had it put upon a 
table, and then I removed the cover, and saw with 
gratification the squab pie that I had ordered for dear 
Thomie, and a greater gratification awaited me, i. e., 
seeing him eat it with a relish. Nor w^as the pie the 



52 LIFE IN DIXIE 

only luxury in that waiter. Fresh butter and butter- 
milk, and a pone of good corn-bread, etc., etc., supple- 
mented by baked apples and cream and sugar. 

'^Come, dear Thomie, and let us eat together once 
more,^^ was my invitation to that dinner, and radiant 
with thanks he took the seat I offered him. I did 
not have the Christian courage to ask him to ask a 
blessing upon this excellent food, but I saw that one 
was asked in silence, nevertheless, and I am sure that 
an invocation went up from my own heart none the 
less sincere. 

^^ Sister, I appreciate this compliment,'^ he said. 

^'I could do nothing that would compliment you, 
Thomie," I answered, and added, ^' I hope you will 
enjoy your dinner as a love offering from me." 

We lingered long around that little table, and many 
topics were touched upon during that period. 

After dinner I asked Thomie to lie down and rest 
awhile. He thanked me, and said that the bed would 
tempt an anchorite to peaceful slumber, and he could 
not resist its wooings. A few minutes after he lay 
down he was sound asleep. He slept as a child — 
calm and peaceful. That a fly might not disturb him, 
I improvised a brush — my handkerchief and a tender 
twig from a tree near by being the component parts. 
As I sat by him and studied his manly young face, 
and read in its expression of goodwill to all mankind, 
I wept to think that God had possibly required him 
as our sacrifice upon the altar of our country. 

The slanting rays of the Western sun fell full and 



DUBING THE WAIL 53 

radiant upon his placid face^ and awakened him from 
this long and quiet slumber. With a smile he arose 
and said: 

" This won't do for me/' 

Hasty good-byes and a fervent ''God bless you" 
were uttered, and another one of the few partings 
that remained to be taken took place between the 
soldier and his sister. 



The day was bright and exhilarating, in the month of 
June, 1864. Gay laughing Flora had tripped over 
woodland and lawn and scattered with prodigal hand 
flowers of every hue and fragrance, and the balmy 
atmosphere of early summer was redolent with their 
sweet perfume; and all nature, animate and inanimate, 
seemed imbued with the spirit of adoration towards 
the Giver of these perfect works. Although many 
hearts had been saddened by the mighty conflict being 
waged for the supremacy of Constitutional right, there 
were yet in Decatur, a large number to whom per- 
sonal sorrow for personal bereavement had not come, 
and they were in sympathy with this beautiful scene, 
whose brilliant tints were but the reflection of divine 
glory, and whose faintest odor was distilled in the 
alchemy of heaven. 

I was contemplating this scene in grateful admira- 
tion, and blended with my thoughts came the mem- 
ory of my brother, who was in the foremost ranks of 
the contest. He, too, loved the beautiful and the good, 



64 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and 'Mooked from nature up to nature's God." All 
unconsciously I found myself plucking his favorite 
flowers, and arraugiog a choice bouquet, a spirit oifer- 
ing to him who might even then be hovering over me 
and preparing my mind for the sad deno jement. \yith 
these reflections, I ascended the steps of my cottage 
home, and turned to take another look upon the 
enchanting scene, when I saw, approaching, one of my 
mother's faithful servants, who was hired to Dr. Tay- 
lor, a well known druggist of Atlanta. Ever appre- 
hensive of evil tidings from ''the front," and ''the 
front" the portion of the army that embraced my 
brother, I was almost paralyzed. I stood as if riveted 
to the floor, and awaited developments. King, for that 
was the name of the ebony-hued and faithful servant 
w^hose unexpected appearance had caused such a heart 
flutter, came nearer and nearer. On his approach I 
asked in husky voice, "Have you heard anything 
from your Marse Thomie, King ?" 

"No, ma'am; have you?" 

The light of heaven seemed to dispel the dark 
clouds which had gathered over and around my hori- 
zon, and I remembered my duty to one, who, though 
in a menial position, had doubtless come on some kind 
errand. 

"Come in, King, and sit down and rest yourself," 
I said, pointing to an easy chair on the portico. 

"I am not tired. Miss Mary, and would rather 
stand," he replied. 

And he did stand, with his hat in his hand ; and I 



DUBING THE WAR. 55 

thought for the first time in my life, prol)ably, that he 
evinced a true manhood, worthy of Caucasian lineage; 
not that there was a drop of Caucasian blood in his 
veins, for he was a perfect specimen of the African 
race, and as black as Erebus. 

The suspense was becoming painful, when it was 
broken by King asking: 

''Miss Mary, is Miss Polly at home?" 

''Yes, King, and I will tell her you are here." 

" Miss Polly," my mother and King's mistress, 
soon appeared and gave him a genuine welcome. 

King now lost no time in making known the object 
of his visit, and thus announced it: — 

"Miss Polly, don't you want to sell me?" 

"No; why do you ask?" 

"Because, Miss Polly, Mr. Johnson wants to buy 
me, and he got me to come to see you and ask you if 
you would sell me." 

"Do you want me te sell you. King? Would you 
rather belong to Mr. Johnson than to me?" 

"Now, Miss Polly, you come to the point, and I 
am going to try to answer it. 1 love you, and you 
have always been a good mistuss to us all, and I don't 
think there is one of us that would rather belong to 
some one else, but I tell you how it is. Miss Polly, 
and you musn't get mad with me for saying it ; when 
this war is over none of us are going to belong to 
you. We'll all be free, and I would a great deal 
rather Mr. Johnson would lose me than you. He is 
always bragging about what he will do; hear him 



56 LIFE IN DIXIE 

talk^ you would think he was a bigger man than Mr. 
Lincoln is, and had more to back him; but I think 
he\s a mighty little man myself, and I want him to 
lose me. He say he'll give you his little old store on 
Peachtree street for me. It don't seem much, I know, 
but much or little, Miss Polly, it's going to be more 
than me after the war." 

And thus this unlettered man, who in the ordinary 
acceptation of the term, had never known what it was 
to be free, argued with his mistress the importance of 
the exchange of property of which he himself was a 
part, for her benefit and that of her children. 

'^Remember, Miss Polly," he said, "that when 
Marse Thomie comes out of the war, it will be mighty 
nice for him to have a store of his own to commence 
business in, and if I was in your place I would take it 
for me, for I tell you again. Miss Polly, when the 
war's over we'll all be free." 

But the good mistress, who had listened in silence 
to these arguments, was unmoved. She saw before 
her a man who had been born a slave in her family, 
and who had grown to man's estate under the foster- 
ing care of slavery, whose high sense of honor and 
gratitude constrained him to give advice intelligently, 
which if followed, would rescue her and her children 
from impending adversity, but she determined not to 
take it. She preferred rather to trust their future 
well-being into the hands of Providence. Her beau- 
tiful faith found expression in this consoling passage 
of Scripture: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not 



DURING THE WAR. 



mined her to pursue the course she did, else it would 
have been reckless and improvident. She told King 
that when our people became convinced that the 
troubles between the South and North had to be set- 
tled by the sword, that she, in common with all good 
citizens, staked her all upon the issues of the war, and 
that she would not now, like a coward, flee from them, 
or seek to avert them by selling a man, or men and 
women, who had endeared themselves to her by ser- 
vice and fidelity. 



58 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER Y. 

A PERILOUS TRUST. 

It is most time to go to the post-office, ain't it, Miss 
Mary? We are going to get a letter from Marse 
Thomie this morning." 

" What makes you so certain of it, Toby ?" 

^^I don't know 'm, but I am; and every time I feels 
this way, I gets one; so I'll just take my two little black 
calves and trot off to the office and get it;" and suit- 
ing the action to the word he struck a pretty brisk 
gait, and was soon around the corner and out of sight. 

Then Decatur received but two mails per day — one 
from an easterly direction and the other from a wes- 
terly direction. The northern, northwestern, south- 
ern and southwestern, all coming in on the morning's 
Georgia Railroad train. Therefore ever since 
Thomie's return to his command, the western mail 
was the one around which our hopes and fears daily 
clustered. 

General Joseph E. Johnston's army was, at the time 
of this incident, at Dalton, obstructing the advance of 
Sherman's '^ three hundred thousand men" on destruc- 
tion bent. And though there had been no regular 
line of battle formed for some time by the Confeder- 
ate and Federal forces, there were frequent skirmishes. 



DUBING THE WAR. 59 

disastrous alike to both sides. Hence tiie daily alter- 
nation of hopes and fears in the hearts of those whose 
principal occupation was waiting and watching for 
"news from the front/^ 

The team of which Toby was the proud possessor, 
did its work quickly, and in less time than it takes to 
tell it he appeared in sight, returning from the post- 
office — one hand clasping a package of papers and 
letters, and the other, raised high above his head, 
holding a letter. I could not wait, and ran to meet 
him. 

" IVe got a whole lot of letters, and every one of 
them is from Dalton, and this one is from Marse 
Thomie!^' 

Toby had read the Dalton post-mark, and had 
made a correct statement. The well-known chirogra- 
phy of my brother had become so familiar to him that 
he never mistook it for another, and was uner- 
ring in his declarations regarding it. Ou this occa- 
sion Tommy\s letter read thus: 

"My Dear Sister — Those acquainted with army 
tactics know that Gen. Johnston is on the eve of an 
important move, or change of base; and that it should 
be the effort of the men, officers and privates, to be 
prepared to make the change, whatever it may be, 
with as little loss of army paraphernalia as possible. 
As the Confederate army has no repository secure 
from the approach of the enemy, several of our 
friends suggest that you might be willing to take care 
of anything which we might send to you, that would be 



60 LIFE IN DIXIE 

of future use to us — heavy over-coats, extra blankets, 
etc., etc. Consider well the proposition before you 
consent. Should they be found in your possession, 
by the enemy, then our home might be demolished, 
and you perhaps imprisoned, or killed upon the spot. 
Are you willing to take the risk, trusting to your 
ingenuity and bravery to meet the consequences? 
Let me know as soon as possible, as war times admit 
of little delay. General Granberry, Col. Bob Young, 
and others, may make known to you their wishes by 
^personal correspondence. Love to my mother and 
sister, and to yourself, brave heart. 

Alfectionatelv, vour brother, 

T. J. Stokes." 

This letter was read aloud to my mother, and the 
faithful mail carrier was not excluded. She listened 
and weighed every word of its contents. For several 
moments a silence reigned, which was broken by her 
asking me what I was going to do in the matter. 

" What would you have me do V I asked in reply. 

" What would they do, Mary, in very cold weather, 
if they should lose their winter clothing, over-coats 
and blankets, now that supplies are so difficult to 
obtain ?" 

This question, evasive as it was, convinced me that 
my mother's patriotism was fully adequate to the occa- 
sion, and, fraught with peril as it might be, she was 
willing to bear her part of the consequences of taking 
care of the soldiers' clothes. 

The return mail bore the following letter addressed 



DUBIXG THE WAN. 61 

jointly to Gen. Granberry, Col. Robert Young, Cap- 
tains Lauderdale and Formwalt, Lieutenant Stokes, 
and Major John Y. Rankin: 

^' My Dear Brother and Friends — I thank 
you for the estimate you have placed upon my char- 
acter and patriotism, as indicated by your request that 
I should take care of your over-coats, blankets, etc., 
until you need them. If I were willing to enjoy the 
fruits of your valor and sacrifices without also being 
willing to share your perils, I would be unworthy 
indeed. Yes, if I knew that for taking care of those 
things, I would subject myself to real danger I would 
essay the duty. Send them on. I will meet them in 
Atlanta, and see that they continue their journey to 
Decatur without delay. 

Your friend, 

M. A. H. G." 

Another mail brought intelligence ot the shipment 
of the goods, and I lost no time in going to Atlanta 
and having them re-shipped to Decatur. There were 
nine large dry goods boxes, and I went immediately 
on their arrival, to Mr. E. Mason's and engaged his 
two-horse wagon and driver to carry them from the 
depot to our home. When they were brought, we 
had them placed in our company dining room. This 
room, by a sort of tacit understanding, had become a 
store room for the army before this important lot of 
goods came, and, as a dining room, much incongruity 
of furniture existed, among which was a large high 
wardrobe. The blinds were now closed and secured. 



62 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the sash put down and fastened, the doors shut and 
locked, and this room given up to the occupancy of 
Confederate articles ; and thus it remained during the 
eventful period intervening between the departure of 
Gen. Joseph E. Johnston's army from Dalton, and 
Sherman's infamous order to the people of Atlanta 
and vicinity to leave their homes, that they might be 
destroyed by his vandal hordes. 



DURFNG THE WAR. <J3 



CHAPTER VI. 

A SCENE IX AN ATLANTA CONFEDERATE 
HOSPITAL. 

''Well, my boy, our patients are all getting along 
nicely in the Fair ground hospital,'' was the comfort- 
ing assurance I gave to Toby, who was my faithful 
co-worker in all that pertained to the comfort of our 
soldiers. ''Suppose we go to the Empire hospital and 
see what we can do there." 

"Yes'm, I have always wanted to go there." 
'J aking one of the baskets we had brought with us 
from Decatur, and which contained biscuits, rusks, 
broiled and fried chicken, ground coffee, and black- 
berry wine, I handed it to him and we wended our 
way to the hospital. Things were not in as good 
shape there as at the Fair ground hospital. I per- 
ceived this at a glance, and upon asking and receiving 
permission from the Superintendent, I soon tidied up 
things considerably. Toby brought pails of fresh 
water, and aided in bathing the faces, hands, and 
arms of the convalescing soldiers, while I hunted up 
the soldier lads who ought to have been at home with 
their mothers, and bestowed the tender loving service 
that woman only can give to the sick and suffering. 
Entering one of the wards I perceived a youth, or 



64 LIFE IN DIXIE 

one I took to be a youth, from his slender fragile fig- 
ure, and his beardless face, lean and swarthy in sick- 
ness, but beautiful in its fine texture, and the marble- 
like whiteness of the brow. That he was of French 
extraction there could be no doubt. Quietly kneel- 
ing by the side of his cot, I contemplated his face, 
his head, his figure — I listened to his breathing, and 
watched the pulsations of his heart, and knew^ that 
his days, yea, his hours, were numbered. Taking his 
hand in mine, I perceived that the little vitality that 
remained was fast burning up with fever. Putting 
back the beautiful rings of raven hair that lay in dis- 
hevelled clusters over his classic head, and partly con- 
cealed his white brow, I thought of his mother, and 
imprinted upon his forehead a kiss for her sake. The 
deep slumber induced by anodynes was broken by 
that touch, and a dazed awakening ensued. ^^Mother," 
Avas his pathetic and only utterance. 

'^What can I do for you, my dear child ?^' 

There are looks and tones which are never forgotten, 
and never shall I forget the utter despair in the eyes, 
lustrous and beautiful enough to look upon the glory 
of Heaven, and the anguish of the voice musical enough 
to sing the songs of everlasting bliss, as he said in trem- 
ulous tone, and broken sentences: 

^^I want to see a Catholic priest. I have paid 
several men to go for me. They have gone off and 
never returned. I have no more money with w^hich 
to pay any one else.'^ 

^^In silence I listened and wept. At length I said: 



DURING THE WAR. 65 

''My dear young friend, can you not make confes- 
sion to ''our Father which art in Heaven/' and ask Him 
for Christ's sake to absolve you from all the sins of 
which you may think yourself guilty? He will do it 
without the intervention of a priest, if you will only 
believe on Him and trust Him. Can you not do 
this?" 

The pencil of Raphael Avould fail to depict the 
anguish of his face; all hope left it, and, as he turned 
his despairing look upon the wall, tear drops glistened 
in his eyes and filled the sunken hollows beneath 
them. Again I took his passive hand in mine, and 
with the other hand upon his white forehead I told 
him he should see a priest — that I myself w^ould go 
for one, and just as soon as he could be found I would 
return with him. Before leaving, however, I went 
to the ward where I had left Toby and the basket, 
and filling a little glass with wine I brought it to the 
sinking youth. He could not be induced to taste it. 
In vain I plead with him, and told him that it would 
strengthen him for the interview with the priest. "I 
am going now, and will come back, too, as soon as I 
can," I said to the dying youth, for to all intents aud 
purposes he was dying then. Seing the other j)atients 
watching my every movement with pathetic interest, 
I w^as reminded to give the rejected wine to the weak- 
est looking one of them. 

Leaving Toby to either wait on, or to amuse the 
soldiers of the ward first entered, (where I foujid 
him playing the latter role much to their delight), 



66 LIFE IN DIXIE 

with hasty steps I went to the Catholic parsonage on 
Hunter street. In response to my ring the door was 
opened by an Irish woman from whom I learned that 
the priest was not in, and would not be until he came 
to luncheon at 12 o'clock m. It was then 11 o'clock, 
and I asked the privilege of waiting in the sitting 
room until he came. This being granted, I entered 
the room consecrated to celibacy, and perhaps to holy 
thoughts, judging from the pictures upon the walls, 
and the other ornaments. These things lurnished 
food for reflection, and the waiting would not have 
seemed so long but for the thought of the poor suf- 
fering one who had given his young life for our cause. 
Intuitively I knew the sound of clerical footsteps as 
they entered the hall, and hastening to meet him I 
asked, "Is this Father O'Riley ?" Receiving an 
affirmative answer, I told him of the youth at the 
Empire hospital who refused to be comforted other 
than by a Catholic priest, and of my promise to bring 
one to him. Father O'Riley said he had been out 
since early morning, visiting the sick, and would be 
obliged to refresh himself, both by food and repose, 
but that I could say to the young man that he would 
be there by 3 o'clock. ''O, sir, you don't realize the 
importance of haste. Please let me remain in your sit- 
ting room until you have eaten your luncheon, and 
then I know you will go with me. I too have been 
out ever since early morning, engaged in the same 
Christ-like labors as yourself, and I do not require 
either food or repose." 



DURING THE WAR. 67 

My earnestness prevailed, aud in a short while we 
were at our destination. At my request, Father 
O'Riley w'aited in the passage way leading to the ward 
until I went in to prepare the dying youth for his 
coming. I found him in that restless condition, 
neither awake nor asleep, which often precedes the deep 
sleep that knows no waking. Wetting my handker- 
chief with cold water, I bathed his face and hands, 
and spoke gently to him, and, when he seemed suffi- 
ciently aroused to understand me, I told him in 
cheerhd tones that he could not guess who had come 
to see him. Catching his look of inquiry, I told him 
it was Father O'Riley, and that I would bring him 
in. Opening the door, I motioned to Father O'Riley 
to follow me. The dying yonth and the Catholic 
priest needed no introduction by me. There was a 
mystic tie between them that I recognized as sacred, 
and I left them alone. Telling Father O'Riley that I 
consigned my charge to him, and that I would come 
back to-morrow, I bade them good-bye and left. 

The contents of the basket had been gratefully 
received and devoured by those who deserved the best 
in the land, because they were the land's defenders. 

To-morrow Toby and I, and the basket, were at 
the Empire hospital in due time, but the poor suffer- 
ing youth was not there. The emancipated spirit had 
taken its flight to Heaven, and all that vyas mortal of 
that brave young soldier had been consigned by the 
ceremonies of the church he loved so well, to the 
protecting care of Mother earth. 



68 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER VII. 

Concealing Confederate clothing — Valuables carried to At- 
lanta—Toby taken ill. 

On the way to the post-office earlv one morning in 
the snltry month of July, 1864, to mail a number of 
letters which I deemed too important to be intrusted 
to other hands, I was accosted as follows by Uncle 
Mack, the good negro blacksmith, whose shop was 
situated immediately upon the route: 

'^Did you know, Miss Mary, that the Yankees have 
crossed the river, and are now this side of the Chat- 
tahoochee?" 

^'Why no!" I said, and added with as much calm- 
ness as I could affect, ^^I do not know why I should 
be surprised — there is nothing to prevent them from 
coming into Decatur." 

With an imprecation, more expressive than elegant, 
that evil should overtake them before getting here, 
he resumed hammering at the anvil, and I my walk 
to the post-office. Nor was Uncle Mack the only one 
who volunteered the information that, "The Yankees 
are coming — they are this side the river." 

The time had come to devise means and methods of 
concealing the winter clothing and other accoutre- 
ments entrusted to my care by our dear soldiers. In 



DURING THE WAR. 69 

order to save them, what should I do with them ? — was 
a question which I found myself unable to answer. 
An attempt to retain and defend them would be futile 
indeed. And I have no right to jeopardize my moth- 
er's home by a rash eifort to accomplish an imposi- 
bility. But what shall I do with these precious 
things, is the question. A happy thought struck me, 
and I pursued it only to find it delusive. The near 
approach of Sherman's army developed the astound- 
ing fact that Doctor A. Holmes, of Decatur, a Bap- 
tist minister of some prominencCj claimed to be a 
Union man, in full sympathy with any means that 
would soonest quell the rebellion. This I had not 
heard, and in my dilemma I went to him to impart 
my plans and ask advice. He was morose and reti- 
cent, and I hesitated; but, driven by desperation, I 
finally said: ''Dr. Holmes, as a minister of the 
Gospel, are you not safe? All civilized nations 
respect clerical robes, do they not?" 

''I think so," he said, and continued by saying, 
'' I have other claims upon the Federal army which 
will secure me from molestation." 

A look of surprise and inquiry being my only 
answer, he said, "Amid the secession craze, I have 
never given up my allegiance to the United States." 

"Why Dr. Holmes!" I said, in unfeigned surprise. 

" I repeat most emphatically that I have remained 
unshaken in my allegiance to the United States. I 
have no respect for a little contemptible Southern 



70 LIFE IX DIXIE 

Confederacy whose flag will never be recognized on 
land or on sea.'' 

'^O, Doctor Holmes!" I gasped rather than said, 

This was a sad revelation to me. On more than one 
occasion I had heard Dr. Holmes pray fervently for 
the success of the Southern cause, and to hear such 
changed utterances from him now, pained me exceed- 
ingly. Heartsore and discouraged I turned from him, 
and was leaving without the usual ceremony, when he 
said : 

"What can I do for you?" 

"I came, sir, to ask a great favor of you, but after 
hearing you express yourself as you have, I deem it 
useless to make known my wishes. Good morning." 

This interview with Dr. Holmes was very brief; it 
did not consume as much time as it has done to tell it. 

I did not w^alk in those days, but ran, and it 
required only a few moments to transfer the scene of 
action from Doctor Holmes' to my mother's resi- 
dence. A hurried whispered conversation acquainted 
her with the situation ; and at my request, and upon a 
plausible pretense, she took Toby to the depot where 
«he remained until I sent for her. My confidence in 
Toby had not in the least diminished, but, being a 
boy, I feared that he might have his price, or be intim- 
idated by threats into the betrayal of our secret; 
hence the management as above related to get him off 
the place while I consummated a plan, which, if suc- 
cessful, would be a great achievement, but, if a failure, 
would be fraught with disaster. In those days "the 



DURING THE WAB. 71 

depot was a place of popular resort — it was the empo- 
rium of news ; and either from the agent, or from the 
Confederate scouts that were ever and anon dashing 
through Decatur, with cheerful messages and words 
of hope, the anxious mothers and sisters of the sol- 
diers often wended their way there in hope of hearing 
something from their loved ones. Therefore no sus- 
picion was aroused by this going to the depot. 

Watching the exit of my mother until she had 
passed out of the gate, and Toby had closed it after 
her, I then went to the rear door and motioned to 
Telitha, who chanced to be in the right place, to 
come into the house. After seeing that every outside 
door was thoroughly secure, 1 took her into the din- 
ing room where the boxes were which contained the 
winter clothing, blankets, etc., already mentioned as 
having been sent for storage by our soldier friends at 
Dalton, and told her in pantomime that the Yankees 
were coming, and that if they saw these things they 
would kill us and burn the house. She fully under- 
stood and repeated the pantomime illustrative of pos- 
sible — yea, probable — coming events, with pathetic 
effect. I showed her that I wanted a hammer and 
chisel with which to take oft* the lids of the boxes, 
and she brought them. The lids removed, each arti- 
cle was carefully lifted from its repository and placed 
on chairs. This important step being taken towards 
the concealment of the goods, I raised the sash and 
opened the shutters of the window nearest the cellar, 
which was unlocked and open, and Telitha climbing 



72 LIFE IN DIXIE 

out of the window received the boxes as I handed 
them to her, and carried them into the cellar. Old and 
soiled as the boxes were, they were not in a condition 
to create suspicion of recent use, so from that source 
we had nothing to fear. Telitha again in the house, 
shutters closed, and sash down, preparation was 
resumed for the enactment of a feat, dangerous and 
rash, the thought of which, even at this remote period, 
almost produces a tremor. The wardrobe mentioned 
in a former sketch as an incongruity in a dining room, 
was emptied of its contents, and inch by inch, placed 
in a position as near the center of the room as possi- 
ble; then a large table was placed beside it, and a 
chair upon that; and then with the help of another 
chair, vv^hich served as a step, I got upon the table and 
then upon the chair that was on the table. As I went 
up, Telitha followed; standing on the table she grasped 
the wardrope with her strong hands and held it 
securely. I ascended from the chair to the top of 
it, stood up and steadied myself, and waited, immova- 
ble as a statue, until she got down and brought the 
chisel and hammer and placed them at my feet, and 
resumed her hold upon the wardrobe. I stooped and 
picked up the utensils with which I had to work, 
and straightened and steadied myself again. The 
chisel touched the plastered ceiling and the hammer- 
ing began. Very slow work it was at first, as the licks 
had to be struck upward instead of downward, and 
the plastering was very thick. Finally the chisel 
went through and was withdrawn and removed to 



DURING THE WAB. 73 

another place, and by repeated efforts I secured an 
aperture large enough to insert my fingers, and a few 
well-directed licks round and about, so cracked and 
weakened the plastering that I was enabled to pull off' 
some large pieces. A new difficulty presented itself. 
The laths were long, much longer than those of the 
present day, and I not only had to make a larger 
opening in the ceiling, but to take off the plastering 
without breaking the laths. More than once the 
w^ardrobe had to be moved, that I might pull off the 
plastering, and then with the greatest care prize off 
the laths. At length the feat was accomplished, and 
I laid the lids of the boxes, which had been reserved 
for this purpose, across the joists and made a floor 
upon which to lay the goods, more than once speci- 
fied in these sketches. When the last article had 
been laid on this improvised shelf, I gazed upon them 
in silent anguish and wept. Telitha caught the mel- 
ancholy inspiration, and also wept. Each L'uh was 
restored to its place and the perilous work was com- 
pleted, and how I thanked the Lord for the- steady 
nerve and level head that enabled me to do this ser- 
vice for those who were fighting the battles of my 
country. 

But the debris must be removed. While the doors 
were yet closed and fastened, we pounded and broke 
the plastering into very small pieces and filled every 
vessel and basket in the house. I then went out and 
walked very leisurely over the yard and lot, and lin- 
gered over every lowly flower that sweetened the 



74 LIFE IN DIXIE 

atmosphere by its tragraiice, and when I was fully 
persuaded that no spy was lurking nigh I re-entered 
the house and locked the door. Picking up the 
largest vessel, and motioning Telitha to follow suit, I 
led the way through a back door to a huge old ash- 
hopper, and emptied the pulverized plastering into it. 
In this way we soon had every trace of it removed 
from the floor. The dust that had settled upon eve- 
rything was not so easily removed, but the frequent 
use of dusting brushes and flannel cloths, disposed of 
the most of it. 

I now wrote a note to my mother, inviting her to 
come home, and to bring Toby with her. We kept 
the doors of the dining room closed, as had been our 
wont for some time, and if Toby ever discovered the 
change, he never betrayed his knowledge of it by 
word or look. 

After a light breakfast, and the excitement of the 
day, I felt that we ought to have a good, luscious din- 
ner, and, with the help at my command, went to work 
preparing it, and, as was my custom of late, I did not 
forget to provide tor others who might come in. 
More than once during the day, Confederate scouts 
had galloped in and spoken a few words of encour- 
agement ; and, after taking a drink of water from the 
old oaken bucket, had galloped out again, and I 
hoped they would come back when the biscuit and 
tea-cakes were done, that I might fill their pockets. 

After the last meal of the day had been eaten, I 
held another whispered consultation with my mother, 



DURING THE WAB. 75 



and in pursuance of the course agreed upon, I enij)- 
tied several trunks, and with her help filled one with 
quilts and blankets, and other bedding ; another with 
china and cut glass, well packed; and another with 
important papers, treasured relics, etc., and locked 
and strapped them ready for shipment next morning. 
A night of unbroken rest and sleep pre})ared me 
for another day of surprises and toil, and before dawn 
I was up, dressed, waiting for daylight enough to 
justify me in the effort to see Mr. Ezekiel Mason, and 
beg him to hire me his team and driver to carry the 
trunks to the depot. After my ready compliance 
with his terms, he agreed to send them as soon as 
possible. The delay caused me to go on a freight 
train to Atlanta, but I congratulated myself upon that 
privilege, as the trunks and Toby went on the same 
train. There was unusual commotion and activity 
about the depot in Atlanta, and a superficial observer 
w^ould have been impressed with the business-like 
appearance of the little city at that important locality. 
Men, Avomen, and children, moved about as if they 
meant business. Trains came in rapidly, and received 
their complement of freight, either animate or inani- 
mate, and screamed themselves hoarse and departed, 
giving place to others that went through with the 
same routine. Drays, and every manner of vehicles, 
blocked the streets, and endangered life, limb, and 
property, of all who could not vie with them in [)ush, 
vim, and dare-deviltry. In vain did I appeal to 
scores of dravmen, white and black, to carry my 



76 LIFE IN DIXIE 

trunks to the home of Mr. Mc Arthur, on Pryor 
street — money was offered with liberality, but to no 
avail. Despairing of aid, I bade Toby follow me, 
and went to Mr. Mc Arthur's. He and his good wife 
were willing to receive the trunks and give them 
storage room, but could extend no aid in bringing 
them there. At length, as a last resort, it was deci- 
ded that Toby should take their wheelbarrow and 
bring one trunk at a time. I returned with him to 
the depot, and had the most valuable trunk placed 
upon the wheelbarrow, and with my occasional aid, 
Toby got it to its destination. A second trip Avas 
made in like manner, and the third was not a failure, 
although I saw that Toby was very tired. Thanking 
my good friends for the favor they were extending, I 
hurried back to the depot, myself and Toby, to take 
the first train to Decatur. Imagine our consterna- 
tion on learning that the Yankees had dashed in and 
torn up the Georgia Railroad track from Atlanta to 
Decatur, and were pursuing their destructive work 
towards Augusta. Neither for love nor money could 
a seat in any kind of vehicle going in that direction 
be obtained, nor were I and my attendant the only 
ones thus cut off from home; and I soon discovered 
that a spirit of independence pervaded the crowd. 
Many were the proud possessors of elegant spans of 
*' little white ponies" which they did not deem too 
good to propel them homeward. Seeking to infuse a 
little more life and animation into Toby, I said: 
''Well, my boy, what do you think of bringing out 



DUBING THE WAR. 77 

your little black ponies and running a race with my 
white ones to Decatur? Do you think you can beat 
in the race?'' 

"I don't know 'm/' he said, without his usual 
smile, when I assayed a little fun with him, and I 
evidently heard him sigh. But knowing there was no 
alternative, I started in a brisk walk towards Decatur, 
and said to him, ''Come on, or I'll get home before 
you do." He rallied and kept very close to me, and we 
made pretty good time. The gloaming was upon us, 
the period of all others auspicious to thought, and to 
thought I abandoned myself The strife between the 
sections of a once glorious country was a prolific 
theme, and I dwelt upon it in all its ramifications, 
and failed to find cause for blame in my peculiar 
people ; and my step became prouder, and my willing- 
ness to endure all things for their sakes and mine, 
was more confirmed. In the midst of these inspiring 
reflections, Toby, who had somewhat lagged behind, 
came running up to me and said: 

''Oh! Miss Mary, just look at the soldiers! And 
they are ours, too!" 

To my dying day I shall never forget the scene to 
which he called my attention. In the weird stillness 
it appeared as if the Lord had raised up of the stones 
a mighty host to fight our battles. Not a sound was 
heard, nor a word spoken, as those in the van passed 
opposite me, on and on, and on, in the direction of 
Decatur, in what seemed to me an interminable line 
of soldiery. Toby and I kept the [track of the des- 



78 LIFE IN DIXIE 

troyed railroad, and were somewhere between Gen. 
GartrelPs residence and Mr. Pittas, the midway station 
between Atlanta and Decatur, when the first of these 
soldiers passed us, and we were at Kirkwood when 
that spectre-like band had fully gone by. Once the 
moon revealed me so plainly that a cheer, somewhat 
repressed, but nevertheless hearty, resounded through 
the woods, and I asked: 

'^ Whose command?'' 

" Wheeler's Cavalry," was the simultaneous response 
of many who heard my inquiry. 

"Don't you know me? I am the one you gave the 
best breakfast I ever ate that morning we dashed into 
Decatur before sun up." 

"And I'm the one, too." 

"O, don't mention it," I said. "You are giving 
your lives for me, and the little I can do for you is 
nothing in comparison. May God be with you and 
shield you from harm until this cruel war is over." 

I missed Toby, and looking back, saw him sitting 
down. I hurried to him, saying, "What is it, my 
boy?" 

"O, Miss Mary, I am so sick. I can't go any fur- 
ther. You can go on home, and let me stay here — 
when I feel better I'll go too." 

"No, my boy, I'll not leave you.'' And sitting by 
him I told him to rest liis head upon my lap, and 
maybe alter awhile he would feel better, and then 
we would go on. In the course of a half hour he 
vomited copiously, and soon after told me he felt 



DURING THE WAH, 79 

better, and would try to go on. More than once his 
steps were unsteady, and he looked dazed; but under 
my patient guidance and encouraging words he kept 
up, and we pursued our lonely walk until we reached 
Decatur. 

As soon as we entered the town, we perceived that 
we had overtaken Wheeler's Cavalry. They were 
lying on the ground, asleep, all over the place; and in 
most instances their horses were lying by them, sleep- 
ing too. And I noticed that the soldiers, even though 
asleep, never released their hold upon the bridles. 
At home, I found my mother almost frantic. She 
knew nothing of the causea detaining me, and sup- 
posed that some disaster had befallen me individually. 
A good supper, including a strong cup of tea pre- 
pared by her hands, awaited us, and I attested my 
appreciation of it by eating heartily. Toby drank a 
cup of tea only, and said he 'Svas very tired, and 
hurt all over.'' 



80 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER YIII. 

The advance guard of the Yankee army— 1 am ordered out 
— A noble federal. 

The day clear, bright and beautiful, in July, 1864, 
and though a midsummer's sun cast its vertical rays 
upon the richly carpeted earth, refreshing showers 
tempered the heat and preserved in freshness and 
beauty the vernal robes of May, and kept the atmos- 
phere pure and delightful. Blossoms of every hue 
and fragrance decked the landscape, and Ceres and 
Pomona had been as lavish with their grains and 
fruits as Flora had been with flowers. 

And I, assisted by Toby and Telitha, had gathered 
from the best of these rich offerings, and prepared 
a feast for Wheeler's Cavalry. By the way, strive 
against it as I would, I was more than once disturbed 
by the mental inquiry: ^'What has become of 
Wheeler's Cavalry? I saw it enter Decatur last night, 
and now there is not a soldier to be seen. It is true 
a large number of scouts came in this morning, and 
spoke comforting words to my mother, and recon- 
noitered around town fearlessly, but what has become 
of them?"- Hope whispered : ^^ Some strategic move- 
ment that will culminate in the capture of the entire 
Yankee army, no doubt is engaging its attention." 



DURING THE WAR. 81 

Yielding to these delusive reflections, and the seduc- 
tive influence of earth, air and sky, I became quite 
exhilarated and hummed little snatches of the songs 
I used to sing in the happy days of childhood, before 
a hope had been disappointed or a shadow cast over 
ujy pathway. 

These scenes and these songs were not in keeping 
with the impending disasters even then at our portals. 
( 'rapen draperies and funeral dirges would have been 
far more in keeping with the developments of the day. 

Distant roar of cannon and sharp report of mus- 
ketry spoke in language unmistakable the approach 
of the enemy, and the rapidity of that approach was 
becoming fearfully alarming. Decatur offered many 
advantages as headquarters to an invading devas- 
tating foe, "and three hundred thousand men" under 
the guidance of a merciless foe ought to have entered 
it long before they did — and would have done so if 
their bravery had been commensurate with their van- 
ilalism. 

'^ Yank I Yank!" exclaimed our deaf negro girl, 
Telitha, as she stroked her face as if stroking beard, 
and ran to get a blue garment to indicate the color 
of their apparel, and this was our first intimation of 
their appearance in Decatur. If all the evil spirits 
had been loosed from Hades, and Satan himself had 
been turned loose upon us, a more terrific, revolting 
^icene could not have been enacted. 

Advance guards, composed of every species of crim- 
inals ever incarcerated in the prisons of the northern 



82 LIFE IN DIXIE 

states of America, swooped down upon us, and eveiy 
species of deviltry followed in their footsteps. My 
poor mother, frightened and trembling, and myself, 
having locked the doors of the house, took our stand 
with the servants in the yard, and witnessed the grand 
entre of the menagerie. One of the beasts got down 
upon his all-fours and pawed up the dust and bellowed 
like an infuriated bull. And another asked me if I 
did not expect to see them with hoofs and horns. I 
told him, ''No, I had expected to see some gentlemen 
among them, and was sorry I should be disappointed." 

My entire exemption from fear on that occasion 
must have been our safeguard, as no personal violence 
was attempted. He who personated a bull must have 
been the king's fool, and was acting in collusion with 
the house pillagers sent in advance of the main army 
to do the dirty work, and to reduce the people to 
destitution and dependence. AVhile he thought he 
was entertaining us with his quadrupedal didos, a 
hoard of thieves were rummaging the house, and 
everything of value they could get their hands upon 
they stole — locks and bolts having proved ineffectual 
barriers to this nefarious work. By this time the 
outside marauders had killed every chicken and other 
fowl upon the place, except one setting hen. A fine 
cow, and two calves, and twelve hogs shared a sim- 
ilar fate. 

Several hours had passed since the coming of the 
first installment of the G. A. R., and a few scattering 
officers were perambulating the streets, and an occa- 



DURING THE WAR. 83 

sional cavalryman reconnoitcrin^. iraving surveyed 
the situation, and discovered that only women and 
children and a few faithful negroes occupied the town, 
the main army came in like an avalanche. Yea, if 
an avalanche and a simoon had blended their fury 
and expended it upon that defenseless locality, a 
greater change could scarcely have been wrought. 

The morning's sun had shone upon a scene of lux- 
uriant beauty, and heightened its midsummer loveli- 
ness, but the same sun, only a few hours later, wit- 
nessed a complete transformation, and blight and des- 
olation reigned supreme. My mother and myself, 
afraid to go in the house, still maintained our out- 
door position, and our two faithful servants clung 
very close to us, notwithstanding repeated efforts to 
induce them to leave. Our group had received an 
addition. Emmeline, a negro girl whom we had 
hired out in Decatur, had been discharged, and had 
now come home. She was not so faithful as her kith 
and kin, and was soon on familiar terms with the 
bummers. Toby complained of being very tired, 
and when we all came to think about it, we discov- 
ered that we, too, were tired, and, without being- 
asked, took seats upon the capacious lap of mother 
earth. As we were not overly particular about the 
position we assumed, we must have presented quite 
an aboriginal appearance. But what mattered it — 
we were only rebels. Notwithstanding the insignia 
of the conqueror was displayed on every hand, we 
felt to a certain degree more protected by the pres- 



84 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ence of commissioned officers, and ventured to go 
into the house. I will not attempt a description of 
the change that had taken place since we had locked 
the doors, and, for better protection, had taken our 
stand in the yard. 

Garrard\s Cavalry selected our lot, consisting of sev- 
eral acres, for headquarters, and soon what appeared 
to us to be an immense army train of wagons com- 
menced rolling into it. In less than two hours our 
barn was demolished and converted into tents, which 
were occupied by privates and non-couimissioned 
officers; and to the balusters of our portico and other 
])ortions of the house, were tied a number of large 
ropes, which, the other ends being secured to trees 
and shubbery, answered as a railing to which at short 
intervals apart a number of smaller ropes were tied, 
and to these were attached horses and mules, which 
were eating corn and oats out of troughs improvised 
for the occasion out of bureau, washstand and ward- 
robe drawers. 

Men in groups were playing cards, on tables ot 
every size, and shape; and whiskey and profanity held 
high carnival. Thus surrounded we could but be 
apprehensive of danger; and to assure ourselves of 
as much safety as possible we barricaded the doors 
and windows, and arranged to sit up all night, that 
is, my mother and myself. 

Toby complained of being very tired, and ^4iurt- 
ing all over," as he expressed it. We assisted him 
in making the very best pallet that could be made of 



DURING THE WAR. 85 

the niiitcrial at our comniaiul, and he kiy down com- 
{)letely prostrated. Telitha Avas wide awake, and 
whenever she eoukl secure a listener chattered like a 
magpie in unintelligible language accompanied by 
unmistakable gestures — gestures which an accom- 
plished elocutionist might ado])t with eifect — and the 
burden of her heart was for Emmeline. Emmeline 
having repudiated our protection, had sought shelter, 
the Lord only knows where. Alas, poor girl! 

As we sat on a lounge, every chair having been 
taken to the camps, we heard the sound of footsteps 
entering the piazza, and in a moment loud rapping, 
which meant business. Going to the window nearest 
the door, I removed the fastenings, raised the sash, 
and opened the blinds. Perceiving by the light of a 
brilliant moon that at least a half dozen men in uni- 
forms were on the piazza, I asked: 

^'Who is there?'' 

"Gentlemen," was the laconic reply. 

"If so, you will not persist in your effort to come 
into the house. There is only a widow and one of 
her daughters, and two faithful servants in it," I said. 

"We have orders from headquarters to interview 
Miss Gay. Is she the daughter of whom you speak?" 

"She is, and I am she." 

" Well, Miss Gay, we demand seeing you, without 
intervening barriers. Our orders are imperative," 
said he who seemed to be the spokesman of the dele- 
gation. 

"Then wait a moment," I amiably responded. 



86 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Going to my mother I repeated in substance the above 
colloquy, and asked her if she would go with me out 
of one of the back doors and around the house into 
the front yard. Although greatly agitated and treui- 
bling, she readily assented, and we noiselessly went 
out. In a fcAV moments we announced our presence, 
and our visitors descended the steps and joined us. 
And those men, occupying a belligerent attitude 
towards ourselves and all that was dear to us, stood 
face to face and in silence contemplated each other. 
AVhen the silence was broken the aforesaid officer 
introduced himself as Major Campbell, a member of 
General Schofield's staff. .He also introduced the 
accompanying officers each by name and title. This 
ceremony over. Major Campbell said: 

'^Miss Gay, our mission is a painful one, and yet 
we will have to carry it out unless you satisfactorily 
explain acts reported to us.'' 

"What is the nature of those acts?" 

''We have been told that it is your proudest boast 
that you are a rebel, and that you are ever on duty to 
aid and abet in every possible way the would-be 
destroyers of the United States government. If this 
be so, we cannot permit you to remain within our 
lines. Until Atlanta surrenders, Decatur will be our 
headquarters, and every consideration of interest to 
our cause requires that no one inimical to it should 
remain within our boundaries established by con- 
quest." 

In reply to these charges, I said : 



DURING THE WAR 87 

^'Gentlemen, I have not been misrepresented, so far 
as the charges which you mention are concerned. If 
I were a man, I should be in the foremost ranks of 
those who are fightino; for rights guaranteed by the 
Constitution of the United States. The Southern 
people have never broken that compact, nor infringed 
upon it in any way. They have never organized 
mobs to assassinate any portion of the j)eople sharing 
the privileges granted by that compact. They have 
constructed no underground railroads to bring into 
our midst incendiaries and destroyers of the peace, 
and to carry off stolen property. They have never 
sought to array the subordinate element of the North 
in deadly hostility to the controlling element. No 
I'lass of the women of the South have ever sought 
positions at the North which secured entrance into 
good households, and then betrayed the confidence 
reposed by corrupting the servants and alienating the 
relations between the master and the servant. No 
class of the women of the South have ever mounted 
the rostrum and proclaimed falsehoods against the 
women of the North — falsehoods which must have 
crimsoned with shame the very cheeks of Beelzebub. 

" No class of the men of the South have ever tramped 
over the North with humbugs, extorting money either 
through sympathy or credulity, and engaged at the 
same time in the nefarious work of exciting the sub- 
ordinate class to insurrection, arson, rapine and mur- 
der. If the South is in rebellion, a well-organized 
i::ob at the North has brought it about. Long years 



88 LIFE IN DIXIE 

of patient endurance accomplished nothing. The 
party founded on falsehood and hate strengthened and 
grew to enormous proportions. And, by the way^ 
mark the cunning of that party. Finding that the 
Abolition Party made slow progress and had to work 
in the dark, it changed its name and took in new 
issues, and by a systematic course of lying in its insti- 
.tutions of learning, from the lowly school-house to 
Yale College, and from its pulpits and rostrums, it 
inculcated lessons of hate towards the Southern people 
whom it would hurl into the crater of Vesuvius if 
endowed with the power. What was left us to do 
but to try to relieve that portion of the country which 
had permitted this sentiment of hate to predominate, 
of all connection with us, and of all responsibility for 
the sins of which it proclaimed us guilty. This effort 
the South has made, and I have aided and abetted in 
every possible manner, and will continue to do so 
just as long as there is an armed man in Southern 
ranks. If this be sufficient cause to expel me from 
my home, I want your orders. I have no favors to 
ask.'' 

Imagine my astonishment, admiration and grati- 
tude, when that group of federal officers, with unanim- 
ity, said : 

^^I glory in your spunk, and am proud of you as 
my country woman; and so far from banishing you 
from your home, we will vote for your retention 
within our lines." 

Thus the truth prevailed; but a new phase of the 



DUIiiya IHE WAR. 81> 

conflict was i nan i>:u rated, as proved by snl)seqnent 
developments. 

Turning to my mother, Major Campbell said: 

*^ Mother, how did our advance guards treat you?'^ 

A quivering of the lips, and a tearful effort to 

speak, was all the response she could make. Tiic 

aggravation of already extreme nervousness was doinu 

its work. 

''Would you like to see?" I said. He indicated 
rather than expressed an affirmative answer. 

I went around and entered the house, and, opening 
the front door, invited him and his friends to come in. 
A hinderance to the exhibit I was anxious to make 
presented itself^ — we had neither candle nor lamp, and 
this I tokl to the officers. Calling to a man in the 
nearest camp. Major Campbell asked him to bring a 
light. This being done, I led the way into the front 
room, and there our distinguished guests were con- 
fronted by a huge pallet occupied by a sixteen year 
old negro boy. A thrill of amusement evidently 
passed through this group of Avestern men, and elec- 
trical glances conveyed messages of distrust when I 
told them of my walk yesterday afternoon, accom- 
panied by this boy, and his exhaustion before we got 
home, and his complaints of "hurting all over" 
before he lay down an hour ago. 

A low consultation was held, and one of tlie offi- 
cers left and soon returned with another who proved 
to be a physician. He aroused tl}^ boy, asked several 
questions, and examined his pulse and tongue. 



93 LIFE IN DIXIE 

^^That will do," said he, and turning to the others 
he said: 

^^He is a very sick boy, and needs medical treat- 
ment at once. I will prescribe and go for the med- 
icine, which I wish given according to directions." 

Havino: received a statement of the bov's condition 
from a trusted source, we were evidently re-instated 
into the good opinion of Major Campbell and his 
friends. Telitha had retired from them to as great a 
distance as the boundaries of the room would permit, 
and every time she caught my eye she looked and 
acted what she could not express in words — utter 
aversion for the "Yank." 

We now resumed our inspection of the interior of 
the house. The contents of every drawer were on 
the floor, every article of value having been abstrac- 
ted. Crockery scattered all over the rooms, suggested 
to the eye that it had been used to pelt the ghosts of 
the watches burned in Massachusetts a century or two 
ago. Outrages and indignities too revolting fo men- 
tion, met the eye at every turn. And the state of 
aifairs in the parlor baffled description. Not an 
article had escaped the destroyer's touch but the 
piano, and circumstances which followed proved that 
that was regarded as a trophy and only waited 
removal. 

"Vandals! Vandals!" Major Campbell sorrowfully 
•exclaimed, and all his friends echoed the opinion, and 
said : 



DURING THE WAE. 91 

"If the parties who did this work eould be identi- 
fied we would hang them as liigh as Haiman." 

But these parties w'ere never identified. They were 
important adjuncts in the process of subjugation. 

After wishing that the worst was over with us, 
these gentlemen, who had come in no friendly mood, 
bade us good night and took their leave. Thus the 
Lord of Hosts, in His infinite mercy, furnished a just 
tribunal to pass judgment upon my acts as a Southern 
woman, and that judgment, influenced by facts and 
surroundings, was just and the verdict humane. 



92 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER IX. 

The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864— The Death of Toby. 

The excitement incident to the morning iind eve- 
ning of yesterday left my mother and myself in no 
frame of mind for repose, and we spent the night in 
suspense and painful apprehension of trouble yet to 
come greater and more direful than that through 
^vhich we had passed. The medicine left for Toby by 
the physician summoned last night, was faithfully 
administered according to direction, and the morning 
found him better, though able to sit up only for a 
short while at a time. Measles had developed, and 
we felt hopeful that it would prove to be a very slight 
attack; and such it might have been, could we have 
controlled him properly, but the excitement and ever- 
varying scenes in the yard, and as far as vision 
extended, were so new and strange to him that, when 
unobserved, he spent much of his time at a window 
commanding the best view of the scene, and, thus 
exposed to a current of air, the disease ceased to 
appear on the surface and a troublesome cough 
ensued. 

Having been without food since the preceding 
morning, our thoughts turned to the usual prepara- 
ation for breakfast, but, alas, those preparations had 



DURING THE WAR, y3 

to be dispensed of, as we liad iiotliing to prepare. 
This state of affairs furnished food for at least serious 
reflection, and the inquiry, ^' What are we to do?" 
found audible expression. The inexorable demands 
of hunger eould not be stifled, and we knew that the 
sick boy needed hot tea and the nourishment which 
food alone could give, and yet we had nothing for 
ourselves or for him — so complete had been the rob- 
bery of the ^'advance guards" of the Grand Army of 
the Republic, that not a thing, animate or inanimate, 
remained with which to appease our hunger. "What 
are we to do ? " was iterated and re-iterated, and no 
solution of the question presented itself Even then 
iippetizing odors from the campfires were diffusing 
themselves upon the air and entering our house, but 
aliens were preparing the food and we had no part in 
it. We debated this question, and firmly resolved 
not to expose ourselves to the jeers and insults ot the 
onemy by any act of ours that would seem to ask for 
food ; but that we would go to other Southern citizens 
in the war-stricken and almost deserted town, and, ii' 
they were not completely robbed, ask them to shar(> 
their supplies with us until we could procure aid from 
outside of the lines so arbitrarily drawn. 

In this dilemma an unexpected relief came to us, 
and convinced ns that there was good even in Naza- 
reth. And a large tray, evidently well-filled, and 
covered with a snow-white cloth, was brought in by 
an Irishman, who handed a card to my mother con- 
taining these words : 



94 LIFE IN DIXIE 

'^To Mrs. Stokes and daughter, Miss Gay, with 
compliments of (Ma joe) Campbell. 

^'Please accept this small testimonial of regard and 
respectful sympathy." 

The latter part of the brief message was the sesame 
that secured acceptance of this offering, and my 
mother and myself jointly acknowledged it with sin- 
cere thanks, and again we thought of Elijah and the 
ravens. The contents of the tray — coffee, sugar and 
tea, sliced ham and a variety of canned relishes, butter, 
potatoes, and oat-meal and bread, were removed and 
the tray returned. That tray, on its humane mission, 
having found its way into our house more than once,, 
opportunely re-appeared. We enjoyed the repast 
thus furnished, although briny tears were mingled 
with it. 

The day passed without any immediate adventure. 
Great activity prevailed in army ranks. The coming^ 
and going of cavalry; the clatter of sabre and spur; 
the constant booming of cannon and report of mus- 
ketry, all convinced us that the surrender of Atlanta 
by the Confederates was but a question of time. A 
few thousand men, however brave and gallant, could 
not cope successfully with ^' three hundred thousand" 
who ignored every usage of civilized warfare, and 
fought only for conquest. 

I cannot say how long this state of affairs lasted 
before Wheeler's Cavalry, supported by Contederate 
Infantry, stole a march upon the Yankees and put 
them to flight. Garrard and his staff officers were in 



DURING THE WAlx\ 95 

our parlor — their parlor pro tern. — holding a coun- 
cil ; the teamsters and army followers were lounging- 
about promiscuously, cursing and swearing and play- 
ing cards, and seeming not to notice the approaching 
artillery until their attention was called to it, and 
then they contended that it was their men firing off 
blank cartridges. I intuitively felt that a conflict 
was on hand. Ma and I held whispered conversa- 
tions and went from one window to another, and 
finally rushed into the yard. Men in the camps 
observed our excitement and said, ''Don't be alarmed, 
it is only the men firing off their blank cartridges." 

The irony of fate was never more signally illus- 
trated than on this occasion. I would have laid 
down my life, yea, a thousand breathing, pulsing lives 
of my own, to have witnessed the overthrow of the 
Yankee army, and, yet, I may have been the means of 
saving a laige portion of it on that occasion. Dreading, 
for my mother's sake and for the sake of the deaf 
girl and the sick boy, an attack upon the forces which 
covered our grounds, I ran to one of the parlor doors 
and knocked heavily and excitedly. An officer 
unlocked the door and opening it said; 

"What is it?" 

"Our men must be nearly here," I replied. 

"Impossible," he said, and, yet, with a bound he 
was in the yard, followed in quick succession by each 
member of the conclave. 

A signal, long, loud and shrill, awakened the 
drowsy, and scattered to the four- winds of heaven 



D6 LIFE IN DIXIE 

cards, books and papers, and in a few minutes horses 
and mules were hitched to wagons, and the mules 
wagons and men were fairly flying from the approach 
of the Confederates. Women and children came pour- 
ing in from everv direction and the house was soon 
filled. Before Garrard's wagon train was three hun- 
dred yards away, our yard was full of our men — our 
own dear " Johnnie Rebs." Oothcaloga Valley boys, 
whom I had known from babyhood, kissed, in passing, 
the hand that waved the handkerchief An officer, 
ah, how grand he looked in gray uniform, came dash- 
ing up and said: 

^^Go in your cellar and lie down, the Federals are 
forming a line of battle, and we, too, will form one 
that will reach across these grounds, and your house 
will be between the two lines. Go at once." 

My mother ran and got Toby's shoes and put them 
on for him, and told him to get up and come with 
her, and as he went out of the house, tottering, I 
threw a blanket over him, and he and Telitha went 
with ma to our near neighbor, Mrs. Williams, her 
cellar being considered safer than ours. I remained in 
our house for the two-fold purpose of taking care of 
it, if possible, and of protecting, to the best of my 
ability, the precious women and children who had 
fled to us for protection. Without thought of myself 
I got them all into the room that I thought would 
be safest, and urged them to lie down upon the floor 
and not to move during the battle. Shot and shell 
flew in every direction, and the shingles on the roof 



DUBING THE WAR. 97 

were following suit, and the leaves, and the limbs, 
and the bark of the trees were descending in show- 
ers so heavy as almost to obscure the view of the 
contending forces. The roaring of cannon and the 
sound of musketry blended in harmony so full and 
so grand, and the scene was so absorbing that I 
thought not of personal danger, and more than once 
found myself outside of the portals ready to rush into 
the conflict — for was I not a soldier, enlisted for the 
war? Nor was I the only restless, intrepid person 
in the house on that occasion. An old lady in whose 
veins flowed the blood of the Washingtons was there, 
and it was with the greatest difliculty that I restrained 
her from going out in the arena of warfare. The tra- 
ditions of her ancestors were so interwoven with 
her life, that, at an age bordering on four-score years 
and ten, they could not relax their hold upon her; 
and she and I might have gone in opposite directions 
had we fled to the ranks of the contending armies. 

Mine was, no doubt, the only feminine eye that 
witnessed the complete rout of the Federals on that 
occasion. At first I could not realize what they were 
doing, and feared some strategic movement; but the 
"rebel yell" and the flying blue coats brought me to 
a full realization of the situation, and I, too, joined 
in the loud acclaim of victory. And the women and 
children, until now panic-stricken and silent as death, 
joined in the rejoicing. All the discouragements of 
the past few weeks fled from me, and hope revived, 
and I was happy, oh, so happy ! I had seen a splen- 



98 LIFE IN DIXIE 

didly equipped army, Scofield's division, I think, 
ignominiously flee from a little band of lean, lank, 
hungry, poorly clad Confederate soldiers, and I 
doubted not an over-ruling Providence would lead us 
to final victory. 

When the smoke of battle cleared away, my 
mother and her ebony charge returned home. Toby 
quickly sought his pallet, and burning fevers soon 
rendered him delirious the greater part of the time. 
In one of his lucid intervals, he asked me to read the 
Bible to him, and he told me what he wanted me to 
read about, and said: 

•' Miss Missouri used to read it to me, and I thought 
it was so pretty.'' 

And I read to him the story of the cross — of Jesus' 
dying love, and he listened and believed. I said to 
him: 

^^My boy, do you think you are going to die?" 

^^Yes'm, I think I am." 

I bowed my head close to him and wept, oh, how 
bitterly. 

"Miss Mary, don't you think I'll go to heaven?" 
he axiously asked. 

"Toby, my boy, there is one thing I want to tell 
you; can you listen to me?" 

"Yes'm." 

"I have not always been just to you. I have 
often accused you of doing things that I afterwards 
found you did not do, and then I was not good 
enough to acknowledge that I had done wrong. And 



DURING THE WAR. 99 

Avhen you did wrong, I was not for<.';iving enough ; 
tind more than once I have punished you for litth* 
isins, when I, witli all the lights before me, was com- 
mitting greater ones every day, and going unpun- 
ished, save by a guilty conscience. And now, my 
boy, I ask you to forgive me. Can you do it?" 

"Oh,yes^n!" 

^'Are you certain that you do? Are you sure that 
there is no unforgiving spirit in you towards your 
poor Miss Mary, who is so sorry for all she has ever 
done that was wrong towards you?" 

^^Oh, yes'm!" 

"Then, my boy, ask the Lord to forgive you for 
your sins just as I have asked you to forgive me, and 
He will do it for the sake of Jesus, who died on the 
•cross that sinners might be redeemed from their sins 
and live with Him in heaven." 

I can never forget the ineffable love, and faith and 
gratitude depicted in that poor boy's face while I live, 
and as I held his soft black hand in mine, I thought of 
its willing service to "our boys" and wept to think 
I could do no more for him, and that his young life 
was going out before he knew the result of the cruel 
war that was waged by the abolitionists ! He noticed 
ray grief, and begged me not to feel so badly, and 
added that he was willing to die. 

I arose from my position by his bed and asked him 
if there was anything in the world I could do for 
him. In reply he said: 



100 LIFE IN DIXIE 

''I would like to have a drink of water from the 
Floyd spring." 

"You shall have it, my boy, just as soon as I can 
go there and back," and I took a pitcher and ran to 
the spring and filled and refilled it several times, that 
it might be perfectly cool, and went back with it as 
quickly as possible. He drank a goblet full of this 
delicious water and said it was " so good,'' and then 
added ; 

" You drink some, too, Miss Mary, and give Miss 
Polly some." 

I did so, and he was pleased. He coughed less 
and complained less than he had done since the 
change for the worse, and I deluded myself into the 
hope that he might yet recover. In a short while he 
went to sleep, and his breathing became very hard 
and his temperature indicated a high degree of fever. 
I urged my mother to lie down, and assured her that 
if I thought she could do anything for Toby at any 
time during the night I would call her. 

I sat there alone by that dying boy. Not a move- 
ment on his part betrayed pain. His breathing was 
hard and at intervals spasmodic. With tender hand 
I changed the position of his head, and for a little 
while he seemed to breathe easier. But it was only 
for a little while, and then it was evident that soon 
he would cease to breathe at all. I went to my 
mother and waked her gently and told her I thought 
the end was near with Toby, and hurried back to 
him. I thought him dead even then, but after an 



DURING THE WAR. 101 

interval he breathed again and again, and all was 
over. The life had gone back to the God who gave 
it, and I doubt not but that it will live witli Him 
forever. The pathos of the scene can never be under- 
stood by those who have not witnessed one similar 
to it in all its details, and I will not attempt to 
describe it. No time-piece marked the hour, but it 
was about midnight, I Aveen, when death set the 
spirit of that youthful negro free. Not a kindred 
being nor a member of his own race was near to lay 
loving hand upon him, or to prepare his little body 
for burial. We stood and gazed upon him as he lay 
in death in that desolated house, and thought of his 
fidelity and loving interest in our cause and its 
defenders, and of his faithful service in our efforts to 
save something from vandal hands, and the fountain 
of tears was broken up and we wept with a peculiar 
grief over that lifeless form. 

My mother was the first to become calm, and she 
came very near me and said, as if afraid to trust 
her voice : 

'^Wouldn't it be well to ask Eliza Williams and 
others to come and May him out?''' 

Before acting on this suggestion 1 went into 
another room and waked Telitha and took her into 
the chamber of death. A dim and glimmering light 
prevented her from taking in the full import of the 
i^cene at first; but I took her near the couch, and, 
pointing to him, I said : 

uDead! — Dead!!" 



102 LIFE IN DIXIE 

She repeated interrogatively, and when she full}' 
realized that such was the case, her cries were pitia- 
ble, oh, so pitiable. 

I sank down upon the floor and waited for the 
paroxysm of grief to subside, and then Avent to her 
and made her understand that I was going out and 
that she must stay with her mistress until I returned. 
An hour later, under the skillful manipulation of 
good '"Eliza Williams'' — known throughout Decatur 
as Mrs. Ami Williams' faithful servant — and one 
or two others whom she brought with her, Toby was 
robed in a nice white suit of clothes prepared for the 
occasion by the faithful hands of his "Miss Polly," 
whom he had loved well and who had cared for him 
in his orphanage. 

We had had intimation that the Federals would 
again occupy Decatur, and as soon as day dawned I 
went to see Mr. Robert Jones, Sen., and got him to 
make a coffin for Toby, and I then asked "Uncle 
Mack" and "Henry" — now known as Decatur's 
Henry Oliver — to dig the grave. Indeed, these two^ 
men agreed to attend to the matter of his burial. 
After consultation Avith my mother, it was agreed 
that that should take place as soon as all things were 
in readiness. Mr. Jones made a pretty, w^ell-shaped 
coffin out of good heart pine, and the two faithful 
negro men already mentioned prepared with care the 
grave. When all was in readiness, the dead boy was- 
placed in the coffin and borne to the grave by very 
gentle hands. 



DUBING THE }VAR. 108 

Next to the pall-bearers my mother and myself 
and Telitha fell in line, and then followed the few 
negroes yet remaining in the town, and that funeral 
cortege was complete. 

At the grave an unexpected and most welcome 
stranger appeared. '^ Uncle Mack" told me he was 
a minister, and would perform the funeral service — 
and grandly did he do it. The very soul of prayer 
seemed embodied in this negro preacher^s invocation ; 
nor did he forget Toby's ^'nurses," and every conso- 
lation and blessing was besought for them. And thus 
our Toby received a Christian burial. 



104 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER X. 
EVERETT'S DESERTION. 

During the early spring of that memorable year 
1864, it was announced to the citizens of Decatur, 
that Judge Hook and family, including his accom- 
plished daughter, Mrs. Whitesides, and her children, 
from Chattanooga, had arrived at the depot, and were 
domiciled, pro tern., in cars which had been switched 
oif the main track of the famous old Georgia rail- 
road. This novel mode of living, even in war times, 
by people in their monetary condition and social 
standing, naturally attracted much attention, and 
brought us to a full realization of approaching danger. 
That this family, accustomed to all the luxuries of an 
elegant home, should live in such an abode, with its 
attendant privations, was convincing proof that the 
home they had abandoned had become intolerable 
because of the proximity of the enemy; and it was 
also fearfully suggestive that that ubiquitous enemy 
was extending his dominion and bringing the fiery, 
bloody conflict into the very heart of "the rebellion." 

A rebellion, by way of parenthesis, which impartial 
historians will put on record as the grandest uprising 
of a long suffering people that was ever known in 



DURING THE WAR. 105 

the annals of nations; ^'a mutiny " (as that chief of 
Southern haters, John Lathrop Motley, whose superb 
egotism impressed him with the idea that his influence 
could change the political trend of Great Britain 
towards the South, has seen proper to denominate it) 
in the camp of American councils brought about by 
unceasing abuse of the Southern States by political 
tricksters, whose only hope of survival lay in the 
hatred for the South thus engendered. 

The coming of Judge Hook's family was hailed 
with pleasure by all good and loyal citizens, and was 
a ligament connecting more closely states suffering in 
a common cause; and we all called upon them and 
soon numbered them with our intimate friends. Mrs. 
Whitesides and Miss Hook were eiFective workers in 
all that benefitted our soldiers or their families. 

Judge Hook was the superintendent of Govern- 
ment Iron Works, and literally brought the foundry 
as well as the operatives with him. Among the 
latter was a man by the name of Everett, w^ho, with 
his family, consisting of his wife and five children, 
occupied an old one room house near a corner of our 
home lot. Although a hearty, hale, and rather good 
looking man, Everett was very poor, and the first 
time I ever saw his wife she came to borrow "a little 
flour." As my mother never turned away from a 
borrower, Mrs. Everett's vessel was filled to over- 
flowing, and, besides, a pitcher of butter-milk and a 
plate of butter was given to her, for which she was 
-extremely grateful. 



106 LIFE IN DIXIE 

An acquaintance thus begun continued during the 
spring and early summer months, and there was not 
a day during that period that my mother did not find 
it convenient to do something for this family. Mrs. 
Everett was more than ordinarily intelligent for a 
person in her position ; and the blush which mantled 
her pretty cheeks when she asked for anything 
betrayed her sensibility; and her children were pretty 
and sweet-mannered. I never saw Everett, only as 
I met him going and coming from his work, and on 
those occasions he showed the greatest respect for me 
by taking off his hat as he approached me and hold- 
ing it in his hand until he had fully passed. He 
seemed to be a steady worker, and if he ever lost a 
day, I never heard of it; and Mrs. Everett was indus- 
trious, but much of the time unemployed for lack of 
material w^ith which to work, and she often begged 
for something to do. She was anxions to work for 
our soldiers, and told me that all of her male relatives 
were in the Confederate army. This circumstance 
endeared her very much to me; and I made the sup- 
port of his family very much easier to Everett than 
it would have been had he lived in a non-appreciative 
neighborhood. And when the village girls met at 
our house to practice for concerts for the benefit of 
our soldiers, which they did almost weekly, I never 
forgot that Mrs. Everett's brothers were in our army 
fighting valiantly, no doubt, for our cause, and I 
always asked her to come and bring her children to 



DUniNG THE WAR. 107 

my room and listen with mc to the sweet music and 
patriotic songs. 

As time sped, many opportunities for witnessinj^ 
Mrs. Everett's devotion to her native land presented 
themselves; and her service to its defenders, though 
humble and unobtrusive, was valuable. Her children, 
too, always spoke lovingly of our soldiers, and were 
never more happy than when doing something for 
them. At length the time came for another move of 
the foundry, and quietly as if by magic, it and its 
appurtenants, under the judicious management of 
Judge Hook, got on wheels and ran at the rate of 
thirty-five miles an hour until it reached Augusta — 
another haven of rest invested with heavenly beauty. 
After the departure of this important adjunct to this 
portion of the Confederacy, it was discovered that 
Everett and his family remained in Decatur. And a 
remarkable change came over them. Instead of the 
free-spoken unsophisticated Avoman that she had 
always appeared to be, Mrs. Everett became reserved 
and taciturn, and seldom left the enclosure by which 
her humble dwelling was surrounded. And the chil- 
dren ceased to cheer us by their merry prattle, and 
daily trip for a pitcher of butter-milk, which, under 
the changed ^and unexplained circumstances, my 
mother eent to them. 

On the never-to-be-forgotten 19th day of July, 
1864, when a portion of Sherman's army dashed into 
Decatur, it obtained a recruit. In an incredibly short 
time, Everett was arrayed in the uniform of a Yankee 



108 LIFE IN DIXIE 

private, and was hustling around with the Yankees 
as if "to the manner born." 

On the 22nd of July, when the Confederates ran 
the Yankees out of the little village they had so pom- 
pously occupied for a few days, Everett disappeared, 
and so did his family from the little house on the 
corner. I supposed they had left Decatur, until I 
went out in town to see if I could hear anything from 
the victors — their losses, etc. — when by chance I dis- 
covered that they had taken shelter in the old post- 
office building on the northeast corner of the court 
house square. 

The morning after the hurried evacuation of Deca- 
tur by the federal troops, I arose, as was my custom, 
as day was dawning, and, as soon as I thought I 
could distinguish objects, I opened the front door and 
stepped out on the portico. As I stood looking upon 
the ruin and devastation of my war-stricken home, 
imagine my surprise and consternation when I saw 
a white handkerchief held by an invisible hand above 
a scuppernong grape arbor. My first impulse was to 
seek security within closed doors, but the thought 
occurred to me that some one might be in distress 
and needed aid. I therefore determined to investi- 
gate the case. In pursuance of this object I went 
down the steps, and advanced several yards in the 
direction of the waving signal, and asked: 

"Who is there?" 

"Come a little nearer, please," was the distinct 
answer. 



DURING THE WAIL lOif 

"lam near enough to hear you; what can \ do for 
you?" I said, and did go a little nearer. 

"Miss Mary, don^t be afraid of me; I would die 
for vou, and such as you, but I cannot die for a lost 
cause,'^ — and through an opening in the foliage of the 
vines, which were more on the ground than on the 
scaffolding, a head protruded — handsome brown eyes, 
and dark whiskers, included — Everett's head, in all 
the naturalness of innocence. 

I thought of his wife and of his children, and of 
his wife's brothers in the Confederate army, and again 
asked with deliberation: 

" What can I do for you?" 

"Bless me or curse me," was the startling answer, 
and he continued: 

"Your kindness to my wife and children has 
rterved me to come to you and ask that you will aid 
me in seeing them, especially her. Will you do it?" 

"Yes, though I despise you for the step you have 
taken, I will grant your request. Don't be afraid 
that I will betray you." 

"Where shall I go?" he asked, with a perceptible 
tremol* in his voice. 

"While I am out here seeming to prop up these 
shrubs, make your Avay to the kitchen and enter its 
front door, and don't close it after you, but let it 
remain wide open. But be still until I tell you to start." 

As if going for something, I walked hastily around 
the house and kitchen, and entering the latter brought 
out an old hoe, and seemed to use it quite indus- 



110 LIFE IK DIXIE 

triously in banking up earth around fallen shrubbery. 
Watching an opportunity — for, in those war times, 
all things, animate and inanimate, seemed to have 
ears — I said : 

'' When I go in the house, you must go into the 
kitchen, and be certain to let the doors remain open." 

I never knew how Everett made this journey, 
whether upright as a man, or upon all-fours like a 
beast. 

From sheer exhaustion my poor mother was sleep- 
ing still, and Toby's breathing and general appear- 
ance as he lay upon his pallet, plainly indicated the 
presence of deep-seated disease. I looked around for 
Telitha, and, not seeing her, I went into the dining 
room where I found her sitting by a window. By 
unmistakable signs she made me understand that she 
had witnessed the entire proceeding connected with 
Everett, through the window blinds. 

Soon the loud tramping of horses' feet caused me 
to run again to the front door, and I beheld a number 
of our scouts approaching. I went to meet them and 
shook hands with every one of them. No demon- 
stration, however enthusiastic, could have been an 
exaggeration of my joy on again seeing our men, 
our dear Confederate soldiers, and yet 1 thought of 
Everett and trembled. 

"Have you seen any Billy Yanks this morning?" 
was asked by several of them ; and I replied : 

"No, I have not seen any since our men ran them 
out of Decatur yesterday." 



DURING THE WAR. Ill 

^'How (lid they treat you while they were here?" 

''You see the devastation of the place/' I replied. 
"^^ Personally we escaped violence; but I would like 
you to go into the house and see the condition of 
aifairs there." 

Said they: 

'' It would not be new to us. We have seen the 
most wanton destruction of property and household 
goods wherever they have gone." 

"Do wait and let me have a pot of coffee made for 
you. The Yankees gave our negro girl quite a good 
deal of it, and not using it herself she gave it to my 
mother, and I want you to enjoy some of it," 1 said. 
They replied: 
• "Soldiers can't wait for luxuries." 

"Good-bye, and God bless you," was their parting 
benediction. And then as if impelled by some 
strange inspiration, they galloped round to the well. 
I ran into the house and got several tumblers and 
fairly flew out there with them, as there was no gourd 
at the well. The kitchen was in close proximity, and 
the door stood invitingly open. What if a bare sus- 
picion should prompt these brave men to enter? 
Alas! All would be up with the poor miscreant who 
had thrown himself upon my mercy, and who w^as 
^ven then lurking there under my direction. But, 
thank the good Lord, they did not enter, and, after 
again invoking God's blessing upon me, they galloped 
off in a southerly direction; and never did retreating 
sounds give more relief. 



112 LIFE IN DIXIE 

I went into the house. My mother, thoroughly 
exhausted, and perhaps discouraged, chose to remain 
iu bed, and as she lay gazing intently upon the wall 
above her, I doubt if she saw it, so intense was her 
meditation. As Telitha by this time had a fire made 
in the dining room, I prepared a pot of good strong 
coffee, and after partaking of the exhilarating bev- 
erage myself, and seeing that each of the household 
was supplied, I took the remainder with necessary 
adjuncts to Everett. Never will I forget his appear- 
ance as we stood face to face — he a miserable deserter 
from the cause I loved, and the recipient of favors I 
scorned myself for bestowing. I told him I would 
go at once for his wife, and that after seeing her he 
must make his way into the enemy's lines as soon ^% 
possible. 

A few minutes sufficed to carry me to Mrs. Ever- 
ett's retreat, already mentioned. I sat down on the 
front door-steps and drew from my pocket a news- 
paper, which chanced to be there, and commenced 
reading aloud. At length I saw that my presence 
had attracted the notice of the children, and I called 
them. One by one they came to me, and I shook 
hands with them and asked them about their mother. 
Hearing my voice and inquiries, she spoke to me 
most pleasantly. I asked her to come out and take 
a seat by me on the steps. She did so, blushingly 
and timidly. I wrote on the margin of the paper, 
"Send the children away," and handed it to her. 
She did so. Assured that they were not in hearing 



DURING THE WAR. 113 

distance, I held the paper before me, and, as if read- 
ing, I tohl her the story of my early interview with 
her husband; of his earnest desire to see her; of my 
consent, on her account, to plan a meeting with her; 
of his secretion in our kitchen; and the necessity of 
the greatest caution in our movements. I told her 
that after walking around a little, and exchanging 
experiences with the brave ladies of the village, she 
would see me, by keeping watch, going home, and 
then she could take a little basket in her hand, as if 
going for something, and come on to our house. She 
implicitly followed my directions. 

My mother received her as if nothing of an unpleas- 
ant nature had transpired; and, although it is a very 
difficult problem, and never solved without the aid of 
necromancy, I undertook to deduct something from 
nothing, and so far succeeded that I had several small 
packages to lay in her basket as she started. Know- 
ing that she knew the way to the kitchen, I gave her 
a wish that all would end well, and bade her good- 
bye, never, doubtless, to meet her again on earth. 
The tears flowed plenteously down her cheeks, and 
her tongue refused to speak, but the pressure of her 
hand attested gratitude, and affection, and farewell. 
I got a glimpse of her as she went out of the alley 
gate; but I never knew when he abandoned his hiding 
place. I heard that about dusk a Federal army 
wagon, under protection of a company of troops, 
came and took her and her little children out of De- 
catur. 



114 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XI. 

A surreptitious visit to Confederate lines — A narrow escape 
—My return— The fall of Atlanta. 

No news from '^the front;" no tidings from the loved 
ones in gray; no friendly spirit whispering words of 
cheer or consolation. Shut up within a narrow space, 
and guarded by Federal bayonets ! not a ray of 
friendly light illuminated my environment. 

The constant roaring of cannon and rattling of mus- 
ketry; the thousand, yea, tens of thousands of shots 
blending into one grand continuous whole, and 
reverberating in avalanchan volume over the hills of 
Fulton, and the mountain heights of old DeKalb — 
told in thunder tones of the fierce contest between 
Federal and Confederate forces being waged without 
intermission for the possession of Atlanta. 

The haughty, insolent boast of the enemy, now 
that Joe Johnston was removed from the command 
of the Army of the Tennessee, that they would make 
quick work of the rebellion, and of the complete subju- 
gation of the South, had in no way a tendency to miti- 
gate anxiety or to encourage hope. Thus surrounded, 
I sought and obtained permission to read Federal 
newspapers. The United States mail brought daily 
papers to the officers in command of the forces quar- 



DURING THE WAR. 115 

tered in our yard; and through this medium I kept 
posted, from a Northern stand-point, concerning the 
situation of both armies. AVhile there was little in 
these dispatches gratifying to me, there was much 
that I thought would be valuable to my people if I 
could only convey it to them; and I racked my brain 
day and night, devising ways and means by which to 
accomplish this feat. But the ways and means deci- 
ded upon, were, upon reflection, invariably adban- 
doned, as being impracticable. 

In this dilemma, a most opportune circumstance 
ofl^ered an immediate solution of the difficult problem. 
In the midst of a deep study of the relative positions 
of the two armies, and of the hopes and fears anima- 
ting both, a tall, lank, honest-faced yankee, came to 
the door of the portico and asked '^if Miss Gay was 
in.'^ I responded that I was she, and he handed me 
a letter addressed to myself. I hastily tore it open 
and read the contents. It was written by a reverend 
gentleman whose wife was a distant relative of my 
mother, and told that she was very ill. ^'Indeed," 
wrote he, "I have but little hope of ever seeing her 
any better, and I beg you to come to see her, and 
spend several days." 

I showed the letter to my mother, who was sitting- 
near by, and, like myself, engaged in studying the 
situation. She strenuously objected to my going, and 
advanced many good reasons for my not doing so; 
but my reasons for going counteracted them all, in 
my estimation, and I determined to go. 



116 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Taking Telitha with me, I carried the letter to the 
Provost Marshal, and asked him to read it and grant 
me the privilege of going. After reading the letter,. 
he asked me how I obtained it, and received my 
statement. He then asked me if I could refer him 
to the party who brought it to me. Leaving the let- 
ter with him, I ran home and soon returned with the 
desired individual who had fortunately lingered in 
the yard in anticipation of usefulness. Convinced 
that the invitation w-as genuine, and for a humane 
purpose, this usually morose Marshal granted me ^'a 
permit" to visit those poor old sick people, for the 
husband w^as almost as feeble as his wife. I told the 
obliging Marshal that there was another favor I 
should like to ask of him, if he would not think me 
too presumptuous. ''Name it,'^ he said. I replied: 

"Will you detail one or more of the soldiers to- 
act as an escort for me? I am afraid to go w^ith 
only this girl." 

To this he also assented, and said it was a wise 
precaution. He asked w^hen I washed to come home. 

''Day after to-morrow afternoon," I told him, and 
received assurance that an escort w^ould be in w^aiting 
for me at that time. 

It now became necessary to make some important 
preparations for the trip. A great deal was involved^ 
and if my plans were successful, important events 
might accrue. A nice white petticoat was called into 
requisition, and, when I got done with it, it wa& 
literally lined with Northern newspapers. "The 



DURING THE WAR. 117 

(Cincinnati Enquirer/' and "The New York Daily 
Times;" "The Cincinnati Commercial Gazette," and 
"The Philadelphia Evening Ledger," under the 
manipulation of my fingers, took their places on the 
inner sides and rear of the skirt, and served as a 
very stylish "bustle," an article much in vogue in 
those days. This preparatory Avork having been 
accomplished, it required but a few moments to com- 
plete my toilet, and, under the auspices of a clear 
conscience, and a mother's blessing, doubtless, I 
started on a perilous trip. The ever-faithful Telitha 
Avas by my side, and the military escort a few feet in 
advance. 

After a walk of a mile and a half, I reached my 
destination for that day. I found the old lady in ques- 
tion much better than I had expected. Nervous and 
sick himself, her husband had greatly exaggerated her 
xifflictions. By degrees, and under protest, I commu- 
nicated to these aged people my intention of carrying 
information to Hood's headquarters, that might be of 
use to our army. I knew that these good old people 
would not betray me, even though they might not 
approve my course, and I confided to them my every 
plan. Both were troubled about the possible result 
if I should be detected; but my plans were laid, and 
nothing could deter me from pursuing them. 

The rising sun of another day saw Telitha and me 
starting on our way to run the gauntlet, so to speak, 
of Federal bayonets. These good old people had 
criven me much valuable information regarding the way 



118 LIFE IN DIXIE 

to Atlanta — information which enabled me to get- 
there without conflict with either Confederate or Fed- 
eral pickets. Knowing the topography of the coun- 
try, I took a circuitous route to an old mill; Cobb's, 
I believe, and from there I sought the McDonough 
road. I didn't venture to keep that highway to the 
city, but I kept within sight of it, and under cover 
of breast-works and other obstructions, managed to 
evade videttes and pickets of both armies. After 
walking fourteen or fifteen miles, I entered Atlanta at 
the beautiful home of Mrs. L. P. Grant, near the 
southern boundary of the city. That estimable lady 
never lost an opportunity of doing good. The les- 
sons of humanity and Christian grace impressed upon 
her youthful mind, and intensified by the life-long 
example of her devoted mother, Mrs. Ami Williams,, 
of Decatur, had called into action all that is enno- 
bling in woman. On this occasion, as upon every 
other offering an opportunity, she remembered to do 
good. She ordered an appetizing lunch, including a 
cup of sure enough coffee, which refreshed and 
strengthened me after my long walk. Her butler 
having become a familiar personage on the streets of 
Atlanta, she sent him as a guide to important places. 
AVe entered the city unchallenged, and moved about 
at will. The force of habit, probably, led me to Mrs. 
McArthur's and to Mrs. Craig's on Pryor street; and, 
by the way, these friends still own the same property, 
and occupy almost the same homes. The head of 
neither of these families was willing to accompany 



DURING THE WAH. 119 

me to Coufbderate headquarters, and without a guide 
I started to hunt them up myself. What had seemed 
an easy task, liow seemed insurmountable. I knew 
not in what direction to go, and the few whom I 
asked, seemed as ignorant as myself Starting from 
Mrs. ('raig's, I went towards the depot. I had not 
j)roceeded very far, before I met Major John Y. 
Rankin. I could scarcely restrain tears of joy. He 
was a member of the very same command to which 
my brother belonged. From Major Rankin I learned 
that my brother, utterly prostrated, had been sent to 
a hospital, either in Augusta or Madison. He told 
me many other things of interest, which I cannot 
mention now, unless I was compiling a history instead 
of a series of personal reminiscences. Preferring not 
to stand upon the street, I asked Major Rankiu to 
return with me to Mrs. Craig's, w^iich he did, and 
spent an hour in pleasant conversation. Mrs. Craig 
was a delightful conversationalist, and while she was 
entertaining the Major with that fine art, I retired to 
a private apartment, and with the aid of a pair of 
scissors ripped off the papers from my underskirt, and 
smoothed and folded them nicely, and after re-arrang- 
ing my toilet, took them into the parlor as a trophy 
of skill in outwitting the Yankees. Telitha, too, 
had a trophy to which she had clung ever since we 
left home, with the tenacity of an eel, and which 
doubtless she supposed to be an offering to 'Olarse 
Tom," and was evidently anxious that he should 
receive it. Having dismissed Mrs. Grant's butler, 



120 LIFE IN DIXIE 

as no longer necessary to my convenience, Major 
Eankiu, myself, and Telitha, went direct to the 
headquarters of his command. The papers seemed to 
be most acceptable, but I noticed that the gleanings 
from conversation seemed far more so. The hope- 
fulness and enthusiasm of our soldiers were inspiring. 
But alas! how little they knew of the situation, and 
how determined not to be enlightened. Even then 
they believed that they would hold Atlanta against 
Herculean odds, and scorned the idea of its surrender. 
At length the opening of Telitha's package devolved 
on me. Shirts, socks, and soap; towels, gloves, etc., 
formed a compact bundle that my mother had sent to 
our soldiers. Many cheery Avords were said, and 
good-byes uttered, and I left them to meet once more 
under very different circumstances. 

I now turned my thoughts to our negroes, who 
were hired in different parts of the city. Rachel, 
the mother of King, hired herself and rented a room 
from Mr. John Silvey, who lived upon the same lot on 
Marietta street, upon which he has since erected his 
present elegant residence. In order that I might have 
an interview with Rachel without disturbing Mr. 
Silvey's family, I went to the side gate and called 
her. She answered and came immediately. I asked 
her if she realized the great danger to which she was 
continually exposed. Even then "shot and shell" 
were falling in every direction, and the roaring of 
cannon was an unceasing sound. She replied that 
she knew the danger, and thought I was doing wrong 



DURING THE WAR, 121 

to be in Atlanta when I had a home to be at. I 
insisted that she had the same home, and a good 
vacant house was ready to receive her. But she was 
impervious to every argument, and preferred to await 
the coming of Sherman in her present quarters. See- 
ing that I had no influence over her, I bade her 
o-ood-bve and left. Telitha and I had not i^-one 
farther than the First Presbyterian churcli (not a 
square away) from the gate upon which I had leaned 
during this interview with Rachel, before a bomb- 
shell fell by that gate and burst into a thousand frag- 
ments, literally tearing the gate into pieces. Had I 
remained there one minute longer, my mortal being- 
would have been torn to atoms. After this fearfully 
impressive adventure, unfortified by any ''permit," I 
struck a bee line to Mrs. Grant's, having promised 
her that I would go back that way and stop awhile. 
An old negro man, belonging to Mrs. Williams, who 
liad ''come out" on a previous occasion, was there, 
and wanted to return under my protection to his 
home within the enemy's lines. Very earnest assur- 
ances from Mrs. Grant to that effect convinced me 
that I had nothing to fear from betrayal by him, and 
I consented that he should be a member of my com- 
pany homeward bound. Two large packages were 
ready for the old man to take charge of, about which 
Mrs. Grant gave him directions, sotto voce. Putting 
one of them on the end of a walking cane he threw 
it over his right shoulder, and with his left hand 
picked up the other bundle. Telitha and I were 



122 LIFE Ij\ dixie 

uniuciimberecl. With a good deal of trepidation I 
took the advance position in the line of march, and 
walked briskly. We had not proceeded very far 
before we encountered our pickets. . No argument 
was weighty enough to secure for me the privilege 
of passing the lines without an official permit. Baf- 
fled in this effort, I approved the action of the pick- 
ets, and we turned and retraced our steps in the 
direction of Atlanta, until entirely out of sight of 
them, and then we turned southward and then east- 
ward, verging a little northward. Constant vigilance 
enabled me to evade the Yankee pickets, and constant 
walking brought me safely to the home of my aged 
and afflicted friends, from which I had started early 
in the morning of that day. Not being tired, I 
could have gone home; but the policy of carrying 
out the original programme is too apparent to need 
explanation. These friends were conservative in 
every act and word, and, it may be, leaned a little 
out of the perpendicular towards that ^^flaunting lie," 
the United States flag; therefore they Avere favorites 
among the so-called defenders of the Union, and 
were kept supplied with many palatable articles of 
food that were entirely out of the reach of rebels 
who were avowed and ^^dyed in the wool." A few 
minutes sufficed to furnish us with a fine pot of soup^ 
(and good bread was not lacking), of Avhich we ate 
heartily. The old negro man was too anxious to get 
home to be willing to spend the night so near, just 
for the privilege of Avalking into Decatur under 



DURING THE WAR. 12S 

Yankee escort, and said he was "going home," and 
left me. 

The next day my escort was promptly on hand, 
and in due time I was in Decatur, none the worse ior 
having put into practice a favorite aphorism of the 
Yankees, that "all things are fair in war." 

The old man had preceded me, and faithful to the 
behest of Mrs. Grant, had turned over a valuable 
package to my mother. 

Not many mornings subsequent to the adventure 
just related, I discovered upon opening the door that 
the Yankee tents seemed to be vacant. Not a blue- 
coat w^as to be seen. What could it mean? Had 
they given up the contest and ignominiously fled? 
As if confirmatory of this gratifying suggestion, the 
booming of cannon in the direction of Atlanta was 
evidently decreasing. Then again I thought perhaps 
the wagon train had been sent out to forage upon the 
country, and as it would now have to go forty-five 
and fifty miles to get anything, it required an immense 
military escort to protect it from the dashing san- 
guinary attacks of the "Rebels." The latter thought 
was soon dismissed and the former embraced, and 
how^ consoling it was to me ? Before the sun had 
attained its meridian height, a number of our scouts 
appeared on the abandoned grounds, and wdiat joy 
their presence gave us! But they left as suddenly as 
they came, and on reflection we could not think of a 
single encouraging word uttered by them during their 
stay. Suspense became intolerable. With occasional 



124 LIFE IN DIXIE 

lulls the roaring of cannon was a continuous blend- 
ing of ominous sound. 

In the midst of this awful suspense, an apparition, 
glorious and bright, appeared in our presence. It 
was my brother. He had left Madison a few^ days 
before, where he had been allowed to spend a part of 
his furlough, instead of remaining at the Augusta 
hospital, and where he had received the tender, min- 
istrations of his estimable cousin, Mrs. Tom Hills- 
man, and her pretty young daughters, and the loving 
care of his sister Missouri, who was also at this time 
an inmate of her cousin's household. How I wished 
he could have remained there until restored to health. 
One less patriotic and conscientious would have done 
so. His mother's joy at meeting her beloved son, and 
under such circumstances, was pathetic indeed, and I 
shall never forget the effort she made to repress the 
tears and steady the voice, as she sought to nerve 
him for the arduous and perilous duties before him. 
Much of his conversation, though hurried, was regard- 
ing his Mary, in Texas, and the dear little boy 
dropped down from heaven, whom he had never seen. 

The shades of night came on, and darker grew 
until complete blackness enveloped the face of the 
earth, and still the low subdued tones of conversation 
between mother, soif, and daughter, mingled with 
unabated interest. 

Hark I Hark! An explosion! An earthquake? 
The angry bellowing sound rises in deafening grand- 
-eur, and reverberates along the far-off valleys and 



DURING THE WAR. Vlb 

distant hill-tops. What is it? This mighty thiindor 
that never ceases? The earth is ablaze — what can it 
be? This illumination that reveals minutest objects'.^ 
AVith blanched face and tearful eye, the soldier said: 

^'Atlanta has surrendered to the enemy. The 
mighty reports are occasioned by the blowing up of 
the magazines and arsenals.'' 

Dumbfounded w-e stood, trying to realize the crush- 
ing fact. Woman's heart could bear no more in 
silence, and a wail over departed hopes mingled witli 
the angry sounds without. 

Impelled by a stern resolve, and a spirit like to 
that of martyred saints, our brother said : 

"This is no place for me. I must go." 

And then he put an arm around each of us, and 
kissed us with a fervor of love that knew^ no bounds, 
and was quenching itself in unfathomable hopeless 
tenderness. The quiet fortitude and patriotism of 
his mother gave way in that dread hour, and she 
cried aloud in agonizing apprehension of never again 
clasping to her bosom her greatest earthly joy. No 
pen can describe the scene of that last parting 
between mother and son, and in sheer impotency I 
drop the curtain. 

As he walked away from his sobbing mother, 
through the w^ar-illuminated village, I never beheld 
mortal man so handsome, so heroically grand. His 
great tender heart, which I had seen heave and sway 
under less trying circumstances, seemed to have 
ossified, and not an emotion was apparent. 



126 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTEE XII. 
THE TEN DAYS' ARMISTICE. 

Going out with the Confederate clothes— Scenes at Atlanta, 
and at Lovejoy's Station — The visit to Granbury's 
Brigade — The last interview with Thomie. 

After every mort?el of food had been taken from the 
people, and every vestige of nutrition extracted from 
the earth, the following order, in substance, was pro- 
claimed throughout the land held by the right of 
conquest : 

"All who cannot support themselves without apply- 
ing to the United States Commissary for assistance, 
must go outside of our lines, either North or South, 
within the period of time mentioned in this order, 
etc., etc.'' 

And by this order, and by others even more op- 
pressive and diabolical, the Nero of the nineteenth 
century, alias William Tecumseh Sherman, was put 
upon record as the born leader of the most ruthless, 
Godless band of men ever organized in the name of 
patriotism — a band which, but for a few noble spirits, 
who, by the power of mind over matter, exerted a 
restraining influence, would not have left a South- 
erner to tell the tale of its fiendish ness on its route to 
the sea. 



DURING THE WAR. 127 

And now, like Bill Nye, after one of his senten- 
tious and doubtless truthful introductions to a Wes- 
tern sketch, I feel easier in my mind, and will proceed 
with my reminiscences of that unholy period of this 
country, and tell the truth about it, Avithout favor or 
prejudice, if it kills me. After this pronunciamentohad 
been issued, all was bustle and rapid movement in 
<ivery household within the boundaries of usurpation. 
Under the strong arm of military power, delay was 
not permitted. Homes were to be abandoned, and, 
household ^oods and household gods to be left for 
the enemy, or destroyed; and liberty under our own 
vine and fig tree was to be a thing of the past, and 
dependence upon strangers a thing of the future. In 
preparation for this enforced change, much that should 
have beeu done was left undone, but there was no 
time to correct mistakes — the armistice was only for 
ten days. 

What were we to do, my mother and myself, was 
a question which presented itself with startling seri- 
ousness, and had to be answered without delay. Our 
farm in Gordon county had already been devastated 
by the invading army, and every improvement de- 
stroyed, and if we should lose our home in Decatur 
we would be poor indeed. But what were we to do? 
If we left our home, we knew it would share the fate 
of all other "abandoned" property, and furnish mate- 
rial for a bonfire for Nero to fiddle by; and if we 
remained, by grace of better men than he, what assur- 
ance had we that by any means within our grasp we 



128 LIFE IN DIXIE 

could obtain eveu a scanty subsistence^ or be pro- 
tected from personal abuse and insult by an alien 
army whose gentlemen were vastly in the minority. 

We learned that our neighbors and friends, Mrs. 
Ami Williams and her estimable son, Mr. Frederick 
Williams, (an invalid from paralysis) — whose influ- 
ence over General Schofield prevented my banishment 
from Decatur the very first night of its occupancy by 
the federal army — and the venerable Mr. and Mrs. 
Buchanan, (the latter a Bostonian and educated in 
Emmerson's celebrated school for young ladies), and 
other families as true to the South as the needle to 
the pole, were going to remain and take their chances 
within the enemy's lines, and we determined to do 
so too. 

The officers in command of the post, especially the 
provost marshal, interrogated us very closely regard- 
ing our plans and expectations during the occupancy 
of the place by federal forces. Having satisfied them 
that our only remaining servant would do washing 
and ironing at reasonable prices, and that we would 
do darning and repairing, we were given a written 
permit to remain within the lines. 

I, however, had a work to do, a feat to perform,, 
which for audacity and courage, has seldom been 
surpassed, which would not admit of my staying at 
home until I had made a little trip to Dixie. 

Knowing the value of his influence, I again went 
to Mr. Frederick Williams, and, confiding my plans 
to him, asked his assistance in getting permission to 



DURING THE WAR. 129 

go out and return during the armistice. I never 
knew what argument he employed for the accomplish- 
ment of this object. I only knew by inference. But 
I received a letter from General Schofield, Adjutant- 
General, of which the subjoined is an exact transcript: 

Decatuk, Ga., Sept. 1, 1864. 

Miss Gay — It was hard for me to reconcile my 
conscience to giving the enclosed recommendation to 
one whose sentiments I cannot approve, but if I have 
committed an error it has been on the side of mercy, 
and I hope I'll be forgiven. Hereafter I hope you 
will not think of Yankees as all being bad, and 
beyond the pale of redemption. 

To-morrow I leave for my own home in the 
'^frozen north,'' and when I return it will be to light 
for my country, and against your friends, so that I 
suppose I shall not have the pleasure of again meeting 
you. Very respectfully, 

J. W. Campbell. 

And that Major Campbell's gallant act may be fully 
appreciated, I will add the letter wdiich secured for 
me the great favor which I had the temerity to ask. 

Headquarters, Army of the Ohio, 

Decatur, Ga., Sept. 14, 1864. 
My Dear Colonel — I have the honor to intro- 
duce Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of this village, and I 
recommend her case to your favorable consideration. 
I do not know exactly what orders are now in force, 
but if you think you can grant her desires without 



130 LIFE IN DIXIE 

detriment to the public service, I am confident the 
indulgence will not be abused. 

Very respectfully your obedient servant, 

J. AV. Campbell. 

To Col. J. C. Parkhurst, Pro. Mar. Gen., Army of 

the Cumberland. 

Thus recommended by one high in army ranks, 
Col. Parkhurst granted me the privilege of going to 
see my young sister, then in Augusta, and carrying 
anything I might have saved from the ravages of the 
war, "unmolested." Fortified by these letters I went 
to the Provost Marshal, in Decatur, and told him I 
would be ready to go to Atlanta to-morrow morning 
at 8 o'clock, and I wanted to carry some old bed cloth- 
ing and other things to my sister, and would be grate- 
ful for an ambulance, or an army wagon all to myself, 
and an Irish driver. He promised that both should 
be at my service at the time indicated, — not, however, 
without the sarcastic remark that, ''if the Yankees had 
been as bad as I said they were, they would not have 
left anything for me to carry." I ran to my mother 
and imparted to her the glad tidings of success, and 
in a whispered conversation we soon had definite 
plans arranged for the consummation of the perilous 
duty before me. I went to the Federal camp and asked 
for some crocus sacks, such as are used in the trans- 
portation of grain, and quite a number were given to 
me. I shook them thoroughly, inside and out, and 
put them by. A ball of twine and some large nee- 



DURING THE WAR. 131 

dies had found their way into the house. The needles 
were threaded and pla(;ed in convenient proximity to 
the sacks. Telitha watched every movement with 
interest and intuitively divined its import. The 
wardrobe was empty, and my very first touch moved 
it at least one inch in the desired direction, and a 
helping hand from her soon placed it in favorable 
position. This much being accomplished, I took a 
seat by my mother on the front door steps and 
•engaged in a pleasant conversation Avith a group of 
young Federal soldiers, who seemed much attached 
to us, and with whom I conversed with unreserved 
candor, and often expressed regret that they were in 
hostile array towards a people who had been goaded 
to desperation by infringement upon constitutional 
rights by those who had pronounced the only liga- 
ment that bound the two sections of the country 
together, "a league with hell, and a covenant w^ith 
the devil." This 1 proved to them by documents 
published at the North, and by many other things of 
which they were ignorant. 

While thus engaged, Captain Woodbury approached 
and said: '^1 learn that you are going out into Dixie, 
Miss Gay." 

"Yes, for a few days," I replied. 

"I am prepared to furnish a more pleasant convey- 
ance to Atlanta than the one you have secured," said 
he, and continued, "I have a handsome new buggy 
and a fine trotter, and it will take only a few minutes 
to reach there. Will you accept a seat with me?" 



132 LIFE IN DIXIE 

If all the blood within me had overflowed its proper 
channels, and rushed to the surface, I could not have 
flushed more. I felt it in the commotion of my hair^ 
and in the nervous twitching of my feet. The indig- 
nation and contempt that I felt for the man ! That 
one who was aiding and abetting in the devastation 
of my country and the spoliation of my home, should 
ask me to take a seat with him in a buggy which he 
doubtless had taken, without leave or license from 
my countrymen, was presumptions indeed, and 
deserved a severe rebuke. But '^prudence being the 
better part of valor," I repressed all that would have 
been offensive in word and act, and replied with suav- 
ity, "Thank you, Captain Woodbury, for the honor 
yon would have conferred upon me, but I cannot 
accept it." Receiving no reply, I added: 

"Let me in candor make a statement to you, 
and I think you will approve the motive that 
prompts my decision. I have not sought to con- 
ceal the fact that my only brother is in the Con- 
federate army; he is there from motives purely 
patriotic, and not as a mercenary hireling. He is 
fighting for the rights guaranteed by the constitution 
of the United States, a constitution so sacred that our 
people have never violated it in any particular, and 
of which we have shown our highest appreciation by 
adopting it verbatim, as the guiding star of the 
Southern Confederacy. You are in an army claiming 
to be fighting for the Union, and yet, the government 
that sent you out on this glorious mission ignores 



DURING THE WAR, 138 

•every principle of fraternal relation between the 
North and the South, and would subvert every fund- 
amental principle of self-government and establish 
upon the wreck a centralized despotism. Could I, 
while you and I are so antagonistic, accept your offer 
and retain your good opinion? I think not, and I 
jn'cfer to go in the conveyance already stipulated." 

Silence, without the slightest manifestation of 
anger, assured me that my argument against taking 
a buggy drive with him to Atlanta, had not been lost 
on Captain Woodbury, of Ohio, a member of Gar- 
rard^s Cavalry. 

After this episode we bade our callers ^'good-eve- 
uing/' went into the house and busied ourselves with 
the important work before us, a work wdiich proba- 
bly would not attract attention because of the dark- 
ness that would surround the scene of its execution. 
The table and a chair had been placed, as once before, 
by the wardrobe already mentioned, and a little 
respite employed viewing the situation. The door 
eonnecting our room and this dining room was gen- 
erally kept shut. At length night came on with its 
friendly, helpful darkness. The shutters of the win- 
dows had been closed for weeks, and secured by nails, 
and the house had been too often searched and plun- 
dered to be suspected of containing valuables. There- 
tore, we felt that if no unusual sound attracted notice 
we would accomplish our object unsuspected. But I 
was anxious and nervous in view of what was before 
me, and wanted the perilous work over with. So 



134 LIFE IN DIXIE 

when the darkness of night fully enshrouded the 
earth, with no other light than that w^iich found its 
way from the campiires of the enemy through the lat- 
ticed shutters, I stepped into the chair and thence 
upon the table, and Telitha followed and drew the 
chair up after her. Then with her strong dusky 
hands she seized the wardrobe as if it had been a 
toy in her hands. I steaded the chair by the ward- 
robe and stepped into it, and another step landed me 
on top of the wardrobe. My fingers penetrated the 
crevice between the slats which I wanted to pull off, 
and to a slight eftort they yielded. Lest the noise 
occasioned by dropping them might attract notice, I 
stooped and laid each piece down as I drew it off the 
joist. When the aperture thus made Avas sufficient, I 
began to draw from their hiding place the precious^ 
Confederate overcoats and other winter apparel con- 
fided to my keeping (as already related), by soldiers 
of General Joseph E. Johnston's army, when they 
were at Dalton. One by one each piece was taken 
out and dropped down upon the floor. But by a 
lamentable oversight we afterwards found that one 
article had been left — a woolen scarf for the neck, 
knitted for my brother by his loving young wife in 
Texas. 

Carefully I descended, and, with the aid of the 
girl, placed the chair, the table and the dear old 
wardrobe (which deserves to be immortalized in song 
and in story), in less suspicious positions, and then 
proceeded to fold and pack in the sacks, already men- 



DURING THE WAR. 185 

tioucd, the precious articles. The thought occurred 
to me that my mother would like to have a hand in 
this labor ot love, and I opened the door between us. 
1 shall never forget her appearance as she stood as if 
riveted to the spot, near a window, watching the mov- 
ing figures without. I approached her and in a cheer- 
ful whisper told her that I was now putting the things 
in the sacks, and I knew she w^ould like to have an 
interest in the job. She tried to respond, but she was 
too nervous to do so. Slowly but surely she was 
yielding to the pressure upon nerve and upon brain. 

As each sack Avas filled, a threaded needle 
securely closed the mouth. In a short while a num- 
ber of these sacks stood in a group, as erect as if on 
parade, and I verily believe that if the host of pro- 
fane, Godless braggarts (with but few exceptions), 
who surrounded the house, could have seen them at 
that time and known their contents, they Avould have 
evacuated Decatur in mortal fear of the ghosts of 
'' Johnnie Rebs.^' 

This important work having been accomplished 
without discovery, or even a shadow of suspicion, I 
felt vastly relieved, and thanked the Lord with all 
my heart for the health, strength, and ingenuity which 
had enabled me to consummate it. My mother ^nd 
I lay down upon the same bed, and were soon blest 
by the invigorating influence of "■ tired nature's sweet 
restorer." 

The song of the lark had ceased to be heard in this 
Avar stricken locality; chanticleer had long since fur- 



136 LIFE IN DIXIE 

nished a savory meal for camp followers, and the 
time pieces had either been spoiled or stolen; but 
there was a silent unerring chronometer within that 
never deviated, and needed no alarm attachment to 
arouse me from slumber, and the dawn found me up 
and preparing for the duties, and j)erhaps the dangers 
of the day. 

Telitha had become quite an attraction to a bevy of 
men who occupied soldiers' quarters, and wore soldiers 
uniforms, and drew pay for doing so, from Uncle 
Sam's coffers ; and as she had been trained to ideas 
of virtue and morality she often came in frowning 
and much ruffled in temper by their deportment to- 
wards her. Being almost entirely deaf and dumb, 
her limited vocabulary was inadequate to supply epi- 
thets expressive of the righteous indignation and con- 
tempt which she evidently felt, — she could only say, 
"Devil Yank, devil," and these words she used with 
telling effect both to the amusement and chagrin of 
the Yankees. This state of affairs convinced me, 
that for her protection she would liave to be kept 
within doors, and I therefore assumed the task of 
drawing the water, and a few other jobs indispensable 
even in life's rudest state. On this occasion, when I 
went to the well for a bucket of water, before prepar- 
ing our frugal breakfast, I was asked by early ma- 
rauders why I did not let "that vouna: colored ladv 
draw the water." I candidly answered them, and 
told them I was going to ask the officers of the en- 
campment to protect her while I was gone, and I also 



DUBINO THE WAB. 187 

•would ask them to rep(n't any misdemeanor towards 
her, that they miglit witness, to headquarters. 

After a good night's rest, my mother's nerves 
seemed all right again, and by 7 o'cloek we had finished 
our breakfast, which consisted of bread and but- 
ter and coffee — the latter luxurious beverage 
being furnished by one whose heart was 
in touch with humanity. That the aper- 
ture in the ceiling of the dining room miglit not be 
discovered until I got the contraband goods out of 
the house, I had brought the sacks containing them 
into the adjoining room, and it was therefore the 
work of a very few minutes to convey them to the 
wagon, when that vehicle, drawn by a span of fine 
horses, under the guidance of the Irish driver, drove 
up to the front door. "Put those sacks into the wag- 
on," I said, pointing to them. When the last one 
of them was stored away safely in that moving repos- 
itory, one of those feelings of relief and security 
came over me that had more than once given me 
courage to brave successfully impending danger — 
and I donned my hat, and bade my mother and the 
faithful girl an almost cheerful "Good-bye," and took 
my seat by the driver, en route for Dixie. Would I 
get there ? Ah ! that was tlic question that had 
blanched my mother's cheek, and deprived her of the 
])ower of articulation when I said "Good-bye." But 
hope, "eternal in the human l)reast," wdiispered ''yes," 
-and thus encouraged, 1 sj)oke grateful words to the 
Irish driver, and asked him many questions about the 



138 LIFE IN DIXIE 

laud of the shamrock and sunny blue skies. He was- 
evidently flattered by my favorable knowledge of the- 
Emerald Isle, and would have done anything within 
his power for me. God bless the Irish forever ! 

I asked him to drive under my direction to the 
residence of my estimable friends, Mr. and Mrs. Po- 
sey Maddox, the parents of the accomplished and 
erudite, Charles K. Maddox of Atlanta. To my 
great joy I saw wagons in their yard, already laden 
with their household goods, to be carried to the depot 
and turned over to Federal authorities, who assumed 
the transportation of them to Jonesboro and the safe 
delivery of them to the Confederate authorities, who 
in turn assumed the transportation and delivery of 
them to the nearest Confederate station. Mr. Mad- 
dox had secured the use of an entire freight car, and 
gladly consented to take me and my baggage in with 
theirs. Mrs. Maddox was particularly glad to have 
me go wdth them, and to her I confided the character 
of my baggage, and received in return many words 
of sympathy and approbation. Those who have 
studied mythical lore, and dwelt in imagination upon 
the attributes of mythical characters, especially those 
of an evil nature, can perhaps form some idea of the 
confusion and disquiet of an entire city yielding its 
possessions to an alien army, wdiich now% that success 
had been achieved by brute force, was bent upon the 
utter impoverishment of the people, and their extreme 
humiliation. Curses and inrprecations too vile to re- 
peat, and boisterous laughter, and vulgar jests re- 



DUBING THE WAR. 18i> 

soiindecl through the streets of Atlanta. Federal 
wagons followed in the tracks of Confederate wagons, 
and after a few light articles were placed in the latter 
for Southern destination, the former unblushingly 
moved up to receive ])ianos and other expensive fur- 
niture which found its way into every section of the 
North. And this highway robbery was permitted by 
William Tecumseh Sherman, the grand Mogul of the 
Army of the Republic. Truly had the city of Atlanta 
been turned into a veritable pandemonium. 

At length our time came to move in the worse 
than death-like processions going Southward, and in 
a short while we were at Jonesboro, our destination, 
so far as Federal aid extended. As soon as I stepped 
from the car I wended my way to the Confederate 
officer of the day, whom I recognized by his regalia, 
and told him of my success in concealing and bring- 
ing out of Federal lines the winter clothing of our 
soldiers. He listened with polite attention and said 
it was a wonderfully interesting story, but altogether 
improbable. 

^^Go with me and I will prove to you the truthful- 
ness of it," I eagerly said. 

As it was a bleak equinoctial day, and drizzling 
rain, Mr. and Mrs. Maddox had not yet leit their car, 
(by way of parenthesis, I would say that the favors 
shown to these excellent people was in consideration 
of Mr. Maddox being a very prudent minister of the 
gospel) and, when we reached it, I asked Mr. Maddox 
to roll one of my sacks to the door. He did so, and 



140 , LIFE IN DIXIE 

I then asked the officer to examine its contents. A 
blade of a pen knife severed the twine with which 
the edges of the mouth had been sewed together, and 
the loved familiar gray and brass buttons, and other 
articles, verified the truth of my statement. He 
looked amazed, and exhausted his vocabulary of flat- 
tering encomiums upon me, and, wdiat was more desi- 
rable and to the point, he asked what he could do in 
the matter, and assured me that there was nothing 
within the range of his jurisdiction that he would not 
do. I told him that the object of my coming to him 
Avas to ask that he send me and my precious charge 
to General Granbury's headquarters, as among other 
overcoats I had one of his in charge, as well as many 
other things belonging to his staff officers. He told 
me the finest span of Confederate horses and the best 
ambulance on the grounds should be at my service as 
soon as possible. 

During the interim, I opened wide my eyes and 
took in the situation in all its horrible details. The 
entire Southern population of Atlanta, with but an 
occasional exception, and that of many miles In its 
vicinity, were dumped out upon the cold ground with- 
out shelter and without any of the comforts of home, 
and an autumnal mist or drizzle slowly but surely 
saturating every article of clothing upon them; and 
pulmonary diseases In all stages admonishing them of 
the danger of such exposure. Aged grandmother's 
tottering upon the verge of the grave, and tender 
maidens In the first bloom of young womanhood, and 



DUIUNG THE WAB. 141 

little babes not three days old in the arms of sick 
mothers, driven from their homes, were all out upon 
the cold charity of the world. 

Apropos, I Avill relate an incident that came under 
my observation during my brief stay at this station: 
When one of the long trains from Atlanta rolled in 
with its living pulsing freight and stopped at the 
terminus, a queenly girl, tall and lithe in figure and 
willowy in motion, emerged from one of the cars,, 
and stood, the embodiment of feminine grace, for a 
moment upon the platform. In less time than it 
takes to chronicle the impression, her Grecian beauty, 
classic expression and nobility of manner, had da- 
geurreotyped themselves upon the tablets of my mem- 
ory, never to be effaced by mortal alchemy. The 
pretty plain debeige dress, trimmed with Confederate 
buttons and corresponding ribbon, all conspired to 
make her appear, even to a casual observer, just what 
she was — a typical Southern girl who gloried in that 
honor. She stood only a moment, and then, as if 
moved by some divine inspiration, she stepped from 
the ear, and falling upon her knees, bent forward and 
kissed the ground. This silent demonstration of affec- 
tion for the land of Dixie touched a vibrating chord, 
and a score or more of beautiful girlish voices blended 
in sweetest harmony while they told in song their 
love for Dixie. I listened spell-bound, and was not 
the only one thus enchanted. A United States officer 
listened and was touched to tears. Approaching me,. 



142 LIFE IN DIXIE 

he asked if I would do him the favor to tell him the 
name of the young lady who kissed the ground. 

''I do not think she would approve of my telling 
vou her name, and I decline to do so/^ I said in reply. 
Not in the least daunted by this rebuflF he responded: 

"I shall learn it; and if she has not already be- 
come the wife or the affianced of another, I shall oifer 
her the devotion of my life." 

The Confederate officer of the day, God forever 
bless him ! came for me. The army wagon was ready 
and standing by Mr. Posy Maddox's car, waiting to 
receive its precious freight, and a few minutes, suffi- 
cient to transfer it from car to wagon, and, after 
waiting to see the last sack securely placed in the 
wagon, I too, got in, and took my seat by the driver. 
A long cold drive was before us, but I was so robust 
I had no fear of the result. 

The driver was a veritable young Jehu, and we got 
over the ground rapidly; but, owing to a mistake in 
following directions, it was a long time before we 
reached our destination, the course of which must 
have been due west from Jonesboro, and through a 
dense forest. And oh, the beauty of that forest! It 
will remain a living, vivid memory, as long as life 
endures. Its rich, varied and heavy foliage had been 
but slightly tinged by the frosts of autumn, and it 
was rendered more beautiful by the constant dripping 
of rain drops from every leaf and blossom. As the 
evening came on, dense, impenetrable clouds canopied 
the earth, and shut out every ray of sunlight, and 



DUEING THE WAR. 143 

.■almost every ray of lio])e. At length night came on, 
dark and weird, and silent, and we were still in the 
woods withont compass or star. 

Jnst as my brave heart was about to succumb to 
despair, a vision of delight burst upon me — a beacon 
light, yea, hundreds of beacon lights, appeared before 
me, and tilled my soul with joy. The camp fires of 
General Cleburne's brave men beckoned us onward, 
and gave us friendly greetings. Every revolution 
of the wagon wheels brought us perceptibly nearer 
the haven of rest. Sabbath-likequiet reigned through- 
out the encampment. No boisterous sounds nor pro- 
fane imprecations broke the stillness. But there was 
a sound that reached my ear, filling my soul with joy 
unspeakable. A human voice it was. I had heard 
it before in the slight wail of infancy; in the merry 
prattle of childhood ; in the melodious songs of youth ; 
in the tender, well-modulated tones of manhood; and 
now; there was no mistaking it — in the solemn, ear- 
nest invocation to the liord of Hosts, for the salva- 
tion of the world, for the millenial dawn, and that 
^^peace on earth, and good Avill to men/' which would 
never again be broken by the clarion of >var, or 
•earth's rude alarms. No sweeter voice ever entered 
the courts of Heaven. 

My obliging young driver stopped the horses at a 
favorable distance, and I heard the greater part of that 
grand prayer, and wept for joy. When it was finish- 
ed, we moved on, and were hailed by a sentinel who 
demanded the countersign, I believe it is called. The 



144 LIFE IN DIXIE 

driver satisfied him, and calling to a soldier, I asked 
him if he knew Lieutenant Stokes. "Like a book/^ 
he answered. '^Please tell him his sister Mary is 
here," I said. In a moment I Avas clasped in his 
arms with the holy pressure of a brother's love. His 
first thought on seeing me was that some calamity 
must have occurred, and he said, "Sister, is Ma or 
Missouri dead?'' "No, Thomie, but Toby is." 

His brave head bowed low and he wept — sobbed 
audibly. I told him of Toby's loving mention of 
him, and of the boy's hope of Heaven. After this 
natural paroxysm of grief had subsided, he looked up, 
and with an ineffable smile, said: 

"Sister, I know you have a secret to tell — what is 
it?" 

"It is this ; I have saved all those precious things 
that were sent to me from Dalton, and I have brought 
them to deliver to their rightful owners. Help me 
to do so as quickly as possible, that I may go back to 
Jonesboro to-night." 

Had a bombshell exploded at his feet, the effect 
could not have been more electrical. He bounded to 
General Granbury's tent with the agility of a deer; 
he told the news to him and the others assembled 
there; and he came back, and they all came with him; 
and had I been a magician, I could not have been an 
object of greater interest. General Granbury pro- 
tested against my return to Jonesboro through the 
darkness of night, and offered his tent for my occu- 
pancy, saying he would go in with some of the other 



DURING IHE WAR. 14.-, 

-officer.'^. Colonel Robert Young, a friend of years' 
standing, was also earnest in his efforts to keep me 
from carrying out my j)urpose to go back, and I ga\-e 
it up. I knew that I was with friends, and permitted 
myself to be lifted out of the wagon and conducted 
to the GeneraFs tent. I took a seat upon a camp 
stool which was placed for me about the centre of the 
tent. The General and his staff officers sat around, 
and my dear brother was very near me. Thus arrang- 
ed, a conversation was commenced which continued 
with slight interruptions into the ^'wee sma' hours'^ 
of the night. Colonel Young seemed to have some- 
thing upon his mind which rendered him indifterent 
to society, or some duty to perform which required 
his attention outside the tent. At length, however, 
he came to the door, and asked my brother to come 
out a while. In a short time both of them came in 
together, and Col. Young, after asking us to excuse 
the interruption of the conversation, remarked that 
there was something outside that he would like us to 
.see. My brother took me by the hand and led me 
•out in front of the tent, and all the officers stood in a 
group around. Imagine my surprise when I perceived 
a long line of soldiers before us, and an officer on horse- 
back galloping from one end of the line to the other. 
I ventured to ask mv brother if thev were ii:oin<>: to 
have a moonlight drill without the moon ? He smiled, 
^nd a faint pressure of the hand indicated that there 
was something on the tapis that would please me, but 
I must wait until it was revealed to others as well. 



146 LIFE IN DIXIE 

In much less time than it has taken to record this 
episode a signal was given, and one of the' grandest 
cheers ever heard bv mortal man resounded throuoh 



■&' 



the midnight darkness, and the dense forest, and was 
echoed over hill and dale. Another signal and 
another cheer, and yet another of each, and I broke 
down completely, and cried lieartily. What had I 
done that my name should be thus honored by men 
enduring all the hardships of warfare, and fighting 
for my principles ; and yet to me it was the most 
acceptable compliment ever paid to living woman. I 
often fancy I hear those voices now blending in one 
grand harmonious shout of praise to the great God of 
Heaven and earth, who has doubtless given rest to 
many of those weary ones. 

Once more in General Granbury's tent, at the 
earnest solicitation of all present, I continued the re- 
hearsal of all the Federal Army news that I had 
gleaned from close perusal of United States newspa- 
pers and from careless and unsuspicious talkers. 
General Granbury was evidently startled when I told 
him that I had heard Federal officers say "Hood was 
working to their hand precisely in going back to 
Tennessee, as Thomas was there with an army that 
was invincible, and which would whip him so bad, 
that there would not be a Johnnie Reb left 'to tell the 
tale;'' and that they criticized severely the "general- 
ship" of giving an invading army unobstructed route 
to the goal of their ambition;* which, in this case, was 
South Carolina. I was asked by one of my auditors 



DURING THE WAIL 147 

to give my inipressions of the situation, and I did .so. 
As I described the magnitude of the Federal army, 
and its vindictive spirit as I liad seen it, and its im- 
placable feeling toward the South, I saw a shade of 
sadness pass over the noble faces of all present. 
''Have you lost hope of the ultimate success of our 
cause ?" was a question 1 was compelled to answer, 
because anxiously asked. I, however, imitated a 
yankee custom by asking a question in reply, as to 
what our resources were, and if they were deemed ade- 
quate to cope with a foe which had the world to draw 
from, both for men and means? '^But have you lost 
hope?" was the question I was called u]K)n to answer 
without equivocation. 

Silence and tears which would well up, were inter- 
preted to mean what my tongue refused to speak. My 
brother perceiving this, put his hand on mine as it 
lay hopelessly upon my laj), and said, '"Cheer up, sister 
mine ; if you could liave seen 'Old Pat's ' men on 
drill this afternoon, you would think we are some 
ourselves." 

Colonel Young continued to seem very much en- 
gaged outside, and, since the demonstration in my 
honor, had given us only an occasional glimpse 
of himself. At length he again came to the door and 
said, "Lieutenant, I sliould like to speak to you." 
My brother responded to the call, and soon returned 
and said : "As there is a hard day's march before us 
for to-morrow, we must let the General get a little 



148 LIFE IN DIXIE 

sleep, and this brave sister of mine must need it too. 
Come, let me conduct you to your room." 

Good-byes were spoken that night which, in the 
providence of God, were destined never to be repeat- 
ed, and Thomie and Colonel Young led the Avay to a 
bran new tent, never used before, and opened the 
door that I might enter. Thomie said, ^'My room is 
next to yours, sister. Pleasant dreams, and refresh- 
ing slumbers," and he kissed me good-night. ^'Good- 
night, dear brother." ^'Good-night, dear friend," 
said I, as he and Col. Young left the tent. By the 
dim light I surveyed ''tlie room" and its furnishings, 
and wept to think that dear Confederate soldiers had 
deprived themselves of comforts that I might be 
comfortable. A handsome buffalo robe lay on the 
ground ; and a coat nicely folded for a pillow, and a 
gray blanket for cover, invited me to repose. A 
small pan of water for morning ablution, and a towel 
and a mirrow about the size of a silver dollar, and a 
comb and brush, furnished every needed convenience. 
I removed the skirt of my dress that it might not be 
wrinkled in the morning, and my mantle for the 
same cause, and lay down and slept, oh, how sweetly, 
under the protecting care of those noble men, until 
awakened by the sweet familiar voice of my brother, 
saying, "Get up, sister, or you will not be ready for 
the roll call," was his never to be forgotten morning 
salutation. ''As a short horse is soon curried," it re- 
quired only a few moments to make myself presenta- 
ble, and just as I was about announcing myself in 



"DURING THE ]VAL\ 14!) 

that condition, Thomie again aj)pt'arod at tlic dooi- 
with a plate containing my breakfast in one hand, 
and a tin cnp containing a decoction, which he called 
coflfee, in the other. '^Here is your breakfast, sister;" 
and he added, 'Hhe ambulance is waiting to carry 
you to I^ovejoy's station. Lieutenant Jewell ;ui<l 
myself have been detailed to accompany you there." 
The army wagons were already falling in line 
one after another and moving onward in a north- 
westerly direction; and what remained of the infan- 
try and cavalry of that once magnificent army, which 
so often had achieved victory under General Joseph 
E. Johnston, had made their last grand bivouac on 
Georgia soil, and were moving onward in the line of 
march to Tennessee, under the command of Hood. 
They were leaving many a gallant comrade who had 
bitten the dust and drenched the soil of Georgia with 
their life blood, and although they must have feared 
that the flag they loved so well was now leading them 
to defeat, yet, not one of those true hearts would 
have deserted it for the wealth of India. As they 
marched in a different direction from that I was 
going to take, and the demand for rapid movement 
was imperative, I could not follow them long with 
my eye, but the memory of the little I saw will ever 
be fresh, and, like an inspiration, yet, to me, their 
burnished bayonets glittered in a perfect halo of glory, 
for the mists and clouds of the preceding day had 
passed away during the night, and a blue sky and 
bright sun gladdened the earth. • 



150 LIFE IN DIXIE « 

Tlie two young lieutenants took seats opposite to me 
in the ambulance. Thus arranged, I caught every 
movement and look of that dear brother from whom 
I was so soon to part. He never looked more hand- 
some, or appeared to greater advantage. I was his 
guest, and he entertained me with "a feast of reason 
and a flow of soul." At my request he sang some of 
the songs of ''auld lang syne," but he preferred to 
talk of our mother and our sister. He recalled 
incidents of his childhood, and laughed heartily 
over some of them. He spoke of his Mary in 
Texas and his love for her, and he took from his vest 
pocket the impression of the foot and hand of his 
only child, a dear little boy whom he had never seen, 
and kissed them, and then folded them carefully and 
put them back in his pocket, and said: 

^^I must hurry back to Texas." 

But back of all this glee and apparent iiopefuluess 
I saw, in characters unmistakable, that he was 
almost bereft of hope, and sustained only by Chris- 
tian resignation. 

We kncAV, by the immense crowd of people stand- 
ing and sitting around on improvised seats, that we 
were approaching the station. The two soldiers got 
out of the ambulance with the elasticity of youth and 
health, and Thomie assisted me out. I stood for a 
moment as if uncertain where to go, and Lieutenant 
Jewel grasped my hand and said: 

'^Good-bye, dear Miss Mary ! " and stepped back into 
the wa2;on and resumed his seat. 



DURING THE WAR. 151 

Seeing a large, square old house, which appeared to 
be full of people, Thoniie and I advanced toward 
it a few steps. Suddenly, as if admonished that a 
soldier's duties should have precedence over every- 
thing else, he took me in his arms and kissed me 
fervently once, twice, thrice. T understood for whom 
they were intended — that trio of kisses. Not a word 
did he speak, and when he turned his back upon me 
I saw him brush oif the silent tears, and more than 
one step was uneven before his nerves became steady 
and he ready to report for duty. I felt intuitively 
that I should never look upon his face again, and I 
watched him with riveted eyes until I could no longer 
see him, and then I gazed upon the vehicle contain- 
ing him until it, too, disappeared forever from my 
sight. Then, and not till then, I gave way to pent- 
up sorrow, and cried as one without hope — unre- 
servedly. 



152 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE RETURN HOME. 

From Jonesboro via Augusta — Scenes and incidents by the 
way— The lonely journey from Stone Mountain to De- 
catur. 

Dazed by a full realization that my brother and 
every male relative and friend were in the octopu 
arms of war, cruel and relentless, I stood riveted to 
the spot where my brother had parted from me, unti 
a gentle hand touched my shoulder, and a pleasant 
voice gave me friendly greeting. Turning, I saw- 
Mrs. Anderson, sister of the brave and gallant Robert 
Alston, whose tragic fate is known to every reader in 
this country. 

"I am glad to see you. I have just seen your 
])rother Robert," I said. 

^' Where? Where? Do tell me that I may go to 
liim!" cried this devoted sister, laughing and weeping 
alternately. 

Having ascertained that the long train of exiles 
would not leave the station for several hours, I offered 
to conduct this tender-hearted woman to the camp- 
fire of her brother. The route took me over the same 
ground which only a few moments ago I had traveled 
w^ith my own dear brother; and along which I had 



/)rJi'IX(r' 7 HE WAR. ir^-i 

seen so vividly a lean, ^i^aiint, phantom hand pointing 
at his retreating form. Even the horses' tracks and 
the ruts made by tlic wheels could be plainly traced 
by their freshness and the yet quivering sands; and 
as I gazed upon them, I fancied they were connecting 
links between me and him which Averc binding oui- 
souls together, and which I would never grow weary 
in following. These reflections were often disturbed 
by questions about ^^my dear brother Robert/' and 
by alternate sobs and laughter. The distance seemed 
much greater, now that I was walking it, but s\t 
length we attained our destination, the headquarters 
of a few of General John Morgan's gallant defenders 
of Southern homes and firesides. It would require 
the descriptive powers of a Sims or a Paul Hayne to 
give an adequate idea of the meeting on this occasion 
of this demonstrative brother and sister. I will not 
undertake to do so. He, too, was ready to move in 
that disastrous campaign, which lost to us the creme 
de la creme of the army of the Tennessee, and wdiich 
aided, as if planned by the most astute federal tacti- 
tian, Sherman, in his "march to the sea." 

During the interview between Col. A'lston and his 
sister, it developed to him that his ])retty home had 
been abandoned to the tender mercies of the enemy 
by the family in whose care he had left it, and that 
the Yankees had shipped his wife's elegant European 
piano, mirrors and furniture, as well as his library, 
cut-glass and Dresden china, to the North; and, be- 
sides, in the very malignity of envy and sectional 



154 LIFE IN DIXIE 

hate, had mutilated and desecrated his house in a shame- 
ful manner. His imprecations were fearful; and his 
vows to get even with the accursed Yankees were 
even more so. The lamb of a few moments ago was 
transformed into a lion, roaring and fierce. He 
accompanied his sister and myself on our return to 
the station; and never will I forget that walk. 

The station reached, the scene of separation of 
brother and sister was again enacted, and he, too, 
went to battle fields, sanguinary and relentless, and 
she to peaceful retreats undisturbed by cannon's roar. 

Here, as at Jonesboro, the face of the earth was lit- 
erally covered with rude tents, and side-tracked cars, 
which were occupied by exiles from home — defense- 
less women and children, and an occasional old man 
tottering on the verge of the grave, awaiting their 
turn to be trans[)orted by over-taxed railroads farther 
into the constantly diminishing land of their love. 
Durino; the afternoon I boarded an alreadv well-filled 
southern bound train, and moved about among its 
occupants as if at home. For were we not one people 
— the mothers, wives and sisters of Confederates? 
The diversitv of mind, disposition, and temper of this 
long train of representative women and children of 
Atlanta, and of many miles contiguous, who were 
carrying minds and hearts brimful of memories never 
to be obliterated, but rather to harden into asphalt 
preservation, was illustrated in various ways. Some 
laughed and talked and jested, and infused the light 
and warmth of their own snnnv natures into others 



DURING THE WAR. 155 

less hopeful; some were nioru.se and churlisli, and saw- 
no hope in the future and were impatient witli those 
who did see the silver lining beyond the dark clouds 
suspended over us; and some very plainly indicated 
that if our cause failed, they would lose all faith in a 
prayer-answering God; and others saw wisdom and 
goodness in all His ways and dispensations, and were 
willing to submit to any chastisement if it only 
l)rought them nearer to the Mercy Seat. 

After many delays and adventures, not of sufficient 
importance to relate, I reached Griswoldville. Here 
I was received with open arms by that good old fath- 
er and mother in Israel, Rev. Dr. John S. Wilson 
and his wife, and his excellent family, whom I found 
residing in an old freight car. But they were living 
in a palace compared to many of their neighbors and 
friends, who had scarcely a shelter to protect them 
from the inclemency of the weather. Every moment 
of time with these good people was spent in answer- 
ing questions, and receiving blessings. Not long after 
this pleasant meeting, Stoneman's raiders came into 
Griswoldville, and the household effects of Dr. Wil- 
son's family were consumed by devouring torches. 
All their winter clothing, the doctor's library, and 
his manuscript sermons, were burned to ashes. These 
sermons were the result of the study and experience 
of forty years. But this grand old soldier of the cross, 
although on the verge of three score years and ten, 
faltered not; for his eye was fixed on the goal of his 
Heavenly inheritance. Wherever he went, he still 



156 LIFE IN DIXIE 

preached ; and died a few years afterwards at his post 
in Atlanta, having missed but two preaching appoint- 
ments in all his ministry, and one of these on the 
Sabbath before he died. 

By a circuitous route, which I can now scarcely re- 
call, in the course of time T reached Augusta, the 
beautiful. I wended my way through crowded thor- 
oughfares to the residence of friends on Green street, 
where my sister had sojourned for several weeks, far 
from the distracting confusion of warfare. After all 
these long and varied years, I never see that Elysian 
street without feeling as if I would like to kneel and 
kiss the ground whereon she found surcease of hostile 
tread and rancorous foe. 

I could scarcely approach the house, in exterior 
beautiful in all that makes a home attractive. I 
feared that within sorrowful tidings might await me. 
No word of the absent sister had come through the 
enemy's line since they were first established, and 
now I dreaded to hear. More than once I stood still 
and tried to nerve myself for the worst tidings that 
could be communicated. And then I ascended the 
stone steps and rang the door-bell. When the butler 
came, I hurriedly asked him if Miss Stokes was in. 
As if apprehending my state of feeling, he answered 
with a broad African grin: "She is, ma'am." 

The pressure of a mountain was removed from my 
heart, and with a lighter step than I had taken for 
sometime, I entered that friendly portal, a welcome 
guest. A moment sufficed for him to carry the joy- 



DURING THE WAR. 157 

mis tidings of my presence to my sister, and, as if by 
magic, she was with me. O, the joy and the sadness 
of our meetino; ! To sav that each of us was g-lad 
beyond our ability to express it, would be a tame 
statement; and yet neither of us was happy. There 
was too much sadness connected with ourselves and 
our country to admit of happiness; yet the report of 
our mother's fortitude and usually good health, and 
the hopeful spirits of our brother, and his numerous 
messages of love and playful phraseology, cheered my 
sister so much that she rallied and did all she could 
to render my brief stay with her as pleasant as possi- 
ble. And there was a charm in her sweet voice and 
pleasant words that were soothing to me, and did 
much to assuage my own grief. Nor were our good 
friends wanting in efforts of like character. They, 
too, had drank deep of Marah's bitter waters. Two 
noble boys, yet in their teens, had been laid upon the 
sacrificial altar, an oblation to their country. And a 
fair young girl had gone down into the tomb, as much 
a sacrifice to Southern rights as if slain on the battle 
field. One other girl and her war-stricken parents 
survived, and they were devoting their lives to the 
encouragement of those similarly bereaved. 

Although I knew it would pain her greatly, I 
thought it would be wrong to leave without telling 
my sister about Toby's death, and, therefore, I 
told her. Like our brother, she wept, but not as 
one without hope. She had been his spiritual 
instructor, and had thoroughly taught him the great, 



158 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and vet easy plao^ of salvation ; and I have never 
doubted that he caught on to it, and was supported by 
the arm of Jesus, as he "passed through the dark 
valley and the shadow of death." The time for leav- 
ing this peaceful retreat came, and was inexorable ; 
nor would I have stayed, if I could. There was a 
widowed mother, whose head was whitened, not so 
much by the frosts of winters as by sorrow and care, 
grief and bereavement, awaiting my coming — oh, so 
anxiously ! Waiting to hear from the soldier son, 
who, even for her sake, and that of his gentle young 
wife and baby boy in Texas, would listen to no plan 
of escape from the dangers involved by his first pres- 
idential vote. Waiting to hear from the fair young 
daughter, whom she preferred to banish from home 
rather than have her exposed to the rude chances of 
war. That she might not be kept in painful suspense, 
I determined not to linger on the way. I, therefore, 
took the morning train on the good old reliable Geor- 
gia railroad, ior Social Circle. The parting from my 
sister pained me exceedingly ; but I knew she had 
put her trust in the Lord, and He would take care of 
her. It may be asked why I did not have the same 
faith regarding the preservation of my brother. He, 
too, was a Christian. "He that taketh the sword 
shall perish by the sword,'^ is a Divine assertion, and 
it was constantly repeating itself in my ears; yea, I 
had heard him repeat it wdth emphasis. 

The trip from Augusta to Social Circle was replete 
Avith melancholv interest, and differed verv materially 



I)URIN(i THE WAli. loH 

from the trip from Atlanta to .loiiesboro. Here those 
who had the courage to ilo .>^o were returning to their 
homes, and were on tlie qui vlve for every item of 
news obtainable from within the enem^^s lines ; but 
nothing satisfactory encouraged their hope of bettei- 
treatment. One marked difference a])peared in the 
character of those who were venturing homeward. 
There were scarcely any young persons — not a single 
young lady. The good old mother railroad was verv 
deliberate in her movements, and gave her patrons 
time to get ac(|uainted and chat a little on the way, 
and this we did without restraint. 

We discussed the situation, and narrated our diver- 
sified experiences, and this interchange of thought 
and feeling brought us very near together, and made 
us wondrous kind to one another. At one of the 
stations at which the train stopped, and had to wait 
a long wdiile, I saw several of the young soldiers from 
Decatur. Among them was Ryland Holmes, and, I 
think, Mose Brown. 

About a dozen ladies were going within the enemy's 
lines, and would there separate for their respective 
homes. We agreed to hire a wagon team and driver 
at Social Circle, that we might take it '^turn about" 
in riding to Stone Mountain. As I was the only one 
going beyond that point, I determined to take my 
chances from there for getting to Decatur, and go on 
foot if need be. Our plan was successful, as, after 
much effort \ve obtained an old rickety wagon, which 
had doubtless done good service in it.s* day, and a 



160 LIFE IN DIXIE 

yoke of mis-mated oxen, and a negro driver. For 
this equipage we paid an enormous sum, and think- 
ing we ought to have the full benefit of it, we all 
got into the wagon to take a ride. Compassion for 
the oxen, however, soon caused first one and then 
another to descend to the ground, and march in the 
direction of home, sometimes two abreast and some- 
times in single file. Nio-ht overtook us at a house 
only a short distance from the Circle, and in a body 
we appealed for shelter beneath its roof. The man 
of the family was at home, under what circumstances 
I have never heard, and to him we appealed, and 
from him we received an ungracious "permit" to stay 
in his house. Seeing no inviting prospect for rest 
and repose, I established myself in a corner, and took 
out of my reticule some nice German wool that had 
been o^iven to me bv mv friends in Au2:usta, and cast 
on the stitches for a throat-warmer, or, in the parlance 
of that day, "a comforter.^' Mine host watched the 
process with much interest. When the pattern devel- 
oped, he admired it, and expressed a wish to have one 
like it. Glad of the privilege to liquidate my in- 
debtedness for the prospective night's shelter, I told 
him if he would furnish the material I would knit him 
one just like it. The material seemed to be in waiting, 
and was brought forward, soft, pretty lamb's wool 
thread, and I put it in my already well-filled hand 
satchel to await future manipulation. The accommo- 
dation in the way of bedding was inadequate, and 
more than one of our party passed a sleepless night; 



J)UEIN(/ THE WAL\ 161 

but what mattered it? Wore we not Confederate 
.soldiers, or very near akin to them? 

As the first sunbeams were dartin*^; about among 
the tree-tops, I donned my bonnet, and bade adieu to 
our entertainers, and started on my journey home- 
ward, walking. Being in the very vigor of woman- 
hood, and in perfect liealth, I never experienced the 
sensation of fatigue, and 1 verily believe I could 
have walked to my desolated liome sooner than the 
most oF the resources within our means could have 
carried me; and I was impatient under the restraint 
and hindrance of slow teams. Hence my start in 
advance of the other ladies. And I wanted to be alone. 
The pent up tears were constantly oozing out of 
my eyes and trickling down my face, and I w^anted to 
open the iiood gates and let them flow unrestrainedly. 
I wanted to cry aloud like a baby. I plunged into 
the woods, for the seldom traveled road was scarcely 
a barrier to perfect solitude. I walked rapidly, and 
closed my eyes to all the attractions of nature lest 
they divert my mind, and appease my hungry heart. 
I wanted to cry, and was even then doing so, before 
I got ready for it. At length I came to a rivulet of 
crystal water, as pure as the dew drops of Arcadia. I 
sat down beside it and mingled the anguished tears of 
my very soul, with its sparkling, ever-changing, nec- 
tarian waters. I bathed my hot face and hands in 
the pellucid stream, and still the lachrymal fountain 
flowed on. 1 thought of my lonely mother, surround- 
ed by those who were seeking the subversion of all 



162 LIFE IN DIXIE 

that her heart held dear, and I cried. I thought of 
my brother — of his toilsome marches and weary 
limbs, and of his consecrated life — and I cried. I 
thought of the fair young sister, still hopeful in early 
womanhood, and I refused to be comforted, and wept 
bitterly. In this disconsolate frame of mind, I was 
ready to give up all hope and yield to direful des- 
pair. At this fearful crisis a still small voice whis- 
pered, ''Peace, be still !'^ The glamour of love invest- 
ed sky and earth with supernal glory. The fountain 
of tears ceased to flow, and I looked around upon the 
handiwork of the Great Supreme Being in whose cre- 
ation I was but an atom, and wondered that He 
should have been mindful of me — that He should 
have given surcease of agony to my sorrowing soul. 
All nature changed as if by magic, and the witchery 
of the scene was indescribable. The pretty wildwood 
flowers, as I bent my admiring gaze upon them, seem- 
ed to say in beautiful silent language, ''Look aloft." 
The birds, as they trilled their morning roundelay, 
fsaid in musical numbers, "Look aloft;" and the mer- 
ry little rivulet at my feet affected seriousness, and 
whispered, "Look aloft." Thus admonished, "in 
that moment of darkness, with scarce hope in my 
heart," I looked aloft — looked aloft. 

By and by the ladies came in sight, some walking 
and others riding in the wagon; and I pitied most 
those who were in the wagon. As soon as they were 
within speaking distance, one of the ladies said : "You 
should have stayed for breakfast. It was quite appe- 



DURING THE WAR. 163 

tizing." Reminded of what J had lost, I was led to 
compare it with what I had gained, and I would not 
have exchanged loss and gain for anything in the 
world. 1 had to admit, however, that there was a 
vacuum that needed replenishing; but I was inured to 
hunger, and, save a passing thought, I banished all 
desire for food, and thought only of the loved ones, 
so near, and yet so tar, and in spite of myself the 
fountain of tears was again running over. 

The long tramp to the Stone Mountain was very 
lonely. Not a living thing overtook or passed us, 
and WT soon crossed over the line and entered a war- 
stricken section of country where stood chimneys 
only, where lately were pretty homes and prosperity, 
now departed. Ah, those chimneys standing amid 
smouldering ruins! No wonder they were called 
"Sherman's sentinels,'^ as they seemed to be keeping 
guard over those scenes of desolation. The very birds 
of the air and beasts of the field had fled to other sec- 
tions. By constant and unflagging locomotion we 
reached Stone Mountain sometime during the night. 
We went to the hotel and asked shelter and protec- 
tion, and received both, but not where to lay our 
heads, as those who had preceded us had filled every 
available place. I had friends in the village, but I 
had no assurance that they had remained at home, 
and weathered the cyclone of war. Therefore, early 
in the morning, hungry and footsore, I started all 
alone walking to Decatur. The solitude was terrific, 
iiud the feeling of awe was so intense that T was 



16'4 LIFE IN DIXIE 

startled by the breaking of a twig or the gruesome 
sound of my own footsteps. Constantly reminded 
by ruined homes, I realized that I was indeed within 
the arbitrary lines of a cruel, merciless foe, and but 
for my lonely mother, anxiously w^aiting my return, 
I should have turned and ran for dear life until again 
within the boundaries of Dixie. 

I must have walked very rapidly, for, before I was 
aware of it, I found myself approaching Judge Bryce's 
once beautiful but now dilapidated home. He and 
his good w^ife gave me affectionate greeting and some- 
thing to inflate a certain vacuum which had become 
painfully clamorous. And they also gave me that 
wdiich was even more acceptable — a large yam potato, 
and a piece of sausage to take to my mother. 

I begged Judge Bryce to go with me at least part 
of the way to Decatur; but he was afraid to leave his 
wife. His experience with the yankees had not been 
an exceptional case. They had robbed him of every- 
thing of value, silver, gold, etc., and what they could 
not carry away, they had destroyed, and he denied 
most emphatically that there was a single gentleman 
in the Federal army. In vain did I tell him that we 
owed the preservation of our lives to the protection 
extended to us by the few gentlemen who \vere in it. 

After a brief rest, I resumed my way homeward, 
and oh, with what heart-sickening forebodings I ap- 
proached that sacred though desolated abode! Anon 
the little town appeared in the distance, and upon its 
very limits I met several of Col. Garrard's cavalry 



DURING THE WAR. 165 

officers. Among them a diversity of tem]>er was dis- 
played. Some of them appeared very glad to see me; 
and, to anxious inquiries regarding my mother, they 
replied that they had taken good care of her in my 
absence, and that I ought to have rewarded them for 
having done so by bringing'^ my pretty young sister" 
home with me. Although I did not entertain one 
iota of respect for the Federal army as a whole, I 
knew there were a few in its ranks who were incapa- 
ble of the miserable conduct of the majority, and my 
heart went out in very tender gratitude to them, espe- 
cially to those who had sought to lessen the anguish 
of my mother. These men threw the reins into the 
hands of out-riders, and got off their horses and 
walked with me to the door of my home. Their 
headquarters were still in the yard and had been 
ever since first established there, with the exception 
of a very few days. My return was truly a memora- 
ble occasion. Manifestations assured me that the 
highest as well as the lowest in that command was 
glad to see me, and in their hearts welcomed me 
home. To good Mr. Fred Williams 1 was indebted, 
in a large measure, for kindly feeling and uniform 
respect from that portion of the Federal army with 
which I came in contact. 

My mother had seen me coming, and had retreated 
into as secluded a place as she could find, to compose 
herself for the meeting; but the effort was in vain. 
She trembled like an aspen leaf, her lips quivered, 
and her tongue could not articulate the words she 



166 LIFE IN DIXIE 

would have spoken. Alas! the tension was more than- 
she could bear. I dwelt upon the fact that Thomie 
and Missouri were well, and had sent her a world of 
love. I tried to infuse hope and cheerfulness into 
everything I told her, but she could not see it, and 
her poor over-taxed heart could bear up no longer, 
and she cried as Rachel weeping for her children, 
long and pileously. No purer tears were ever borne 
by heaven-commissioned Peri into the presence of a 
compassionate Savior, than those shed by that patri- 
otic though sorrowing mother. 



DUBING THE WAR. 161 



CHAPTER XIV. 
ON THE VERGE OF STARVATION. 

A worn-out army horse is found.— Uiiele Mack makes a 
wagon — I make a unique trip — Starvation is warded 
off — Dangers and scenes by the way. 

"What is it, Ma, has anything happened ?'' 

"No, only Maggie Benedict has been here crying 
as if her heart would break, and saying that her chil- 
dren are begging her for bread, and she has none to 
give them. Give me a little of the meal or hominy 
that you have, that we may not starve until we can 
get something else to eat, and then take the remain- 
der to her that she may cook it as quickly as possible 
for her suffering children. '' 

We had spent the preceding day in picking out 
grains of corn from cracks and crevices in bureau 
drawers, and other improvised troughs for federal 
horses, as well as gathering uj) what was scattered 
upon the ground. \\\ this way by diligent and per- 
severing work, about a half bushel was obtained from 
the now deserted camping ground of Garrard's cavalry, 
and this corn was thoroughly washed and dried, and 
(carried by me and Telitha to a poor little mill, (which 
had escaped conflagration, because too humble t(» 



168 LIFE IN DIXIE 

attract attention), and ground into coarse meal. Re-^ 
turning from this mill, and carrying, myself, a portion 
of the meal, I saw in the distance my mother coming 
to meet me. Apprehensive of evil, I ran to meet 
her and asked: 

^^What is it, Ma? Has anything happened?"' 
With flushed face and tear-toned voice, she replied 
as already stated. My heart was touched, and a 
division was soon made. Before starting on this 
errand, I thought of the probable delay that inexpe- 
rience, and perhaps the want of cooking utensils and 
fuel, might occasion, and suggested that it would 
hasten relief to the children to cook some bread and 
mush and carry it to them ready for use. A boiling 
pot, left on the camping ground, was soon on the fire 
ready to receive the well-prepared batter, which was 
to be converted into uutricious mush or porridge, 
^or was the bread forgotten. While the mush was 
cooking, the hoe-cakes were baking in good old plan- 
tation style. These were arranged one upon another, 
and tied up in a snow white cloth; and a tin bucket, 
also a trophy from the company, was filled with the 
hot mush. I took the bread, and Telitha the bucket, 
and walked rapidly to Doctor Holmes' residence, 
where Maggie Benedict, whose husband was away in 
the Confederate army, had rooms for herself and her 
children. The Rev. Doctor and his wife had refugeed, 
leaving this young mother and her children alone 
and unprotected. 

The scene which I witnessed will never be obi it- 



DVRINO THE WAR. 1«9 

erated from my memory. On the doorsteps sat the 
young mother, beautiful in desohition, with a baby in 
her arms, and on either side of her a little one, pite- 
ously crying for something to eat. "Oh, mama, I 
want something to eat, so bad." "O, mama, I am 
so hungry — giv^e me something to eat." Thus the 
children were begging for wdiat the mother had not 
to give. She could only give them soothing words. 
But relief was at hand. Have you ever enjoyed the 
satisfaction of appeasing the hunger of children who 
had been without food until on the verge of starva- 
tion? If not, one of the keenest enjoyments of life 
has been denied you. O, the thankfulness of such a 
privilege! And oh, the joy, melancholy though it 
be, of hearing blessings invoked upon you and yours 
by the mother of those children! 

While this needful food was being eaten with a zest 
known only to the hungry, I was taking in the situa- 
tion, and devising in my own mind means by which 
to render more enduring relief. The meal we had on 
hand would soon be exhausted, and, though more 
might be procured in the same way, it would be haz- 
ardous to depend upon that way only. " God helps 
those who help themselves," is a good old reliable 
proverb that cannot be too deeply impressed upon the 
mind of every child. To leave this young mother in 
a state of absolute helplessness, and her innocent lit- 
tle ones dependent upon the })recarious support which 
jnight be gleaned from a devastated country would be 



170 LIFE IN DIXIE 

cruel indeed; but how to obviate this stale of affairs^ 
was a serious question. 

The railroad having been torn up in every direc- 
tion communicating with Decatur, there seemed to 
be but one alternative — to walk — and that was not 
practicable with several small children. 

"Maggie, this state of affairs cannot be kept up; 
have you no friend to whom you can go? '' 

"Yes," she replied, "Mr. Benedict has a sfster 
near Madison, who has wanted me and the children 
to go and stay with her ever since he has been in 
the army, but I was too independent to do it." 

" Absurd ! Well, the time has come that you 
must go. Get the children ready, and I will call for 
you soon," and without any positive or defined plan 
of procedure, I took leave of Maggie and her 
children. 1 was working by faith, and the Lord 
directed my footsteps. On my way home I hunted 
up "Uncle Mack," a faithful old negro man, who pre- 
ferred freedom in the midst of privation with his own 
white people, to following the federal army around 
on "Uncle Sam's" ])ay-roll, and got from him a 
promise that he would construct a wagon out of the 
odds and ends left upon the streets of Decatur. The 
next thing to be done was to provide a horse, and 
not being a mngician, nor possessed of Aladdin's lamp,, 
this undertaking must have seemed chimerical to 
those who had not known how often and how singu- 
larly these scarcely formulated plans had developed 
into success. This day had been one of constant 



DUB IN G THE \VA Jx\ 171 

and active service, aiul was only one of many 
that furnished from sixteen to eighteen workinj*; 
hours. No wonder, then, that exhausted nature suc- 
cumbed to sleep that knew no waking until the dawn 
of another day. 

Next morning, before the sun rose, accom])anie(l 
by the Morton girls, I was on my way to ''the cane- 
brakes.'^ T had seen many horses, whose places had 
been taken by others captured from farmers, aban- 
doned and sent out to the canebrakes to recuperate or 
to die, the latter being the more ])robable. Without 
any definite knowledge of the locality, but guided by 
an over-ruling providence, I went direct to the cane- 
brake, and there soon made a selection of a horse, 
which, from the assortment at hand, could not have 
been improved upon. By a dexterous throw of a 
lasso, constructed and managed by the young friends 
already mentioned, he was soon captured tmd on his 
way to Decatur to enter ''rebel" service. His most 
conspicuous feature was a pair of as fine eyes as ever 
illuminated a horse's head, large, brown and lustrous. 
There were other conspicuous things about him, too; 
for instance, branded upon each of his sides were the 
tell-tale letters, "U. S.," and t)n his back was an im- 
mense sore which also told tales. By twelve o'clock, 
noon, Uncle Mack appeared upon the scene, pulling 
something which he had improvised which baffles de- 
scription, and which, for the sake of the faithful ser- 
vice I obtained from it, I will not attempt to describe, 
though it might provoke the risibilities of the reader. 



172 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Suffice it to say that as it carried living freight in 
safety over many a bridge, in honor of this I will call 
it a wagon. Uncle Mack soon had the horse secured 
to this vehicle by ropes and pieces of crocus sacks, for 
harness was as scarce a commodity as wagons and 
horses. I surveyed the equipage from center to cir- 
cumference, with emotions pathetic and amusing. It 
was awfully suggestive. And as I viewed it in all 
its grotesqueness my imagination pictured a collapse, 
and my return home from no very distant point u])on 
my all-fours, with one of the fours dragging after me 
in a dilapidated condition. I distinctly heard the 
derisive gibberish and laughtre of old Momus, and 
thought I should explode in the effort to keep from 
joining in his mirthfulness. As I turned my head to 
take a sly glance at my mother, our eyes met, and all 
restraint was removed. With both of us laughter and 
sobs contended for the mastery, and merriment and 
tears literally blended. Thus equipped, and with a 
benediction from mv mother, expressed more by looks 
and acts than l)y words, I gathered the ropes and 
started like Bayard Taylor to take ''Views a Foot,'' 
and at the same time accomplish an errand of mercy 
which would lead me, as I led the horse, over a por- 
tion of country that in dreariness and utter desolation 
baffles description — enough to know that Sherman's 
foraging trains had been over it. Leading the horse, 
which was already christened "Yankee," to Dr. 
Holme's door, I called Maggie to come on with her 
<*hildren. 



DURING THE WAR. 17H 

''I can't bring my things out, Miss Mary. Some- 
body must come to carry them and j)ut them in the 
waffon." 

"lean/' I said, and, suiting the action to the 
word, ran into the house, where to my amazement 
three large trunks confronted me. What was to be 
done? If they couhl be got into the wagon, what 
guarantee was there that poor Yankee could haul 
them in that cumbersome vehicle? However, I went 
for Uncle Mack to put the trunks in the wagon, and 
in front of them, in close proximity to the horses' 
heels, was placed a chair in which Maggie seated her- 
self and took her baby in her lap, the other children 
nestling on rugs at her feet. 

Poor Yankee seemed to feel the importance of his 
mission, and jogged along at a pretty fair speed, and 
I, who walked by his side and held the ropes, found 
myself more than once obliged to strike a trot in 
order to maintain control of him. Paradoxical as it 
may seem, I enjoyed this new phase in my service to 
the Confederacy — none but a patriot could render it, 
and the whole thing seemed invested with the gla- 
mour of romance, the sequel of which would be 
redemption from all connection with a people who 
could thus afflict another people of equal rights. 
While Maggie hummed a sweet little lullaby to her 
children, I contemplated the devastation and ruin on 
every side. Not a vestige of anytliing remained to 
mark the sites of the pretty homes which had dotted 
this fair country before the destroyer came, except, 



174 LIFE IN DIXIE 

perhaps, a standing cliininey now and then. And all 
this struck me as the willing sacrifice of a peerless 
people for a great j^rinciple, and looking through the 
dark vista I saw light ahead — I saw white-robed 
peace proclaiming that the end of carnage had come. 
Even then, as I jogged along, at a snaiPs pace, (for be 
it known Yankee was not uniform in his gait, and as 
his mistress had relaxed the tension of the ropes, he 
had relaxed the speed of his steps,) up a pretty little 
hill, from whose summit I had often gazed with rap- 
turous admiration upon the beautiful mountain of 
granite near by, I had so completely materialized the 
Queen of Peace that I saw her on that mountain's 
crest, scattering with lavish hand blessings and 
treasures as a recompense for the destruction so wan- 
tonly inflicted. Thus ray hopeful temperament fur- 
nished consolation to me, even under darkest circum- 
stances. 

Maggie and the children became restive in their 
pent-up limits, and the latter clamored for something 
to eat, but there was nothing to give them. Night 
was upon us, and we had come only about eight miles, 
and not an animate thing had we seen since we left 
Decatur, not even a bird, and the silence was unbro- 
ken save by the sound of the horse's feet as he trod 
upon the rocks, and the soft sweet humming of the 
young mother to her dear little ones. Step by step 
we seemed to descend into the caverns of darkness, 
and my brave heart began to falter. The children, 
awe-struck, had ceased their appeal for bread, and 



DUBINa THE WAR. 175 

nestled closer to their mother, and that they might 
all the more feel her protecting presence, she kept up 
a constant crooning sound, pathetic and sad. Step 
by step we penetrated the blackness of night — a 
night without a moon, starless and murky. The 
unerring instinct of an animal was all we had to guide 
us in the beaten road, which had ceased to be visible 
to human ken. 

A faint glimmer of light, at apparently no very 
great distance, gave hope that our day's journey was 
almost ended. Yankee also caught the inspiration, 
and walked a little faster. Though the time seemed 
long, the cabin, for such it proved to be, was finally 
reached, and I dropped the ropes, and, guided by the 
glimmer of light through the cracks, went to the 
door and knocked, at the same time announcing my 
name. The door was quickly ojjeued. Imagine my 
surprise when recognized and cordially welcomed by 
a sweet friend, whose most humble plantation cabin 
was a pretty residence in comparison with the one she 
now occupied. Maggie, top, as the daughter of a 
well-known physician, received cordial welcome for 
herself and children. And thus a kind Providence 
provided a safe lodging place for the night. 

Nature again asserted itself, and the children asked 
for something to eat. The good lady of the house 
kissed them, and told them that supper would soon be 
ready. The larger one of her little sons drew from a bed 
of ashes, which had been covered by glowing coals, 
^'^ome large yam potatoes which he took to a table and 



176 LIFE IN DIXIE 



peeled. He then went outside the cabin and drew 
from a keg an earthen-ware pitcher full of sparkling 
persimmon beer, which he dispensed to us in cups, 
and then handed around the potatoes. And how 
much this repast was enjoyed! Good sweet yams 
thoroughly cooked, and the zestful persimmon beer! 
And I thought of the lonely mother at a desolated 
home, whose only supper had been something made 
of coarse meal, ground from corn which her own 
hands helped to pick from crevices and cracks in 
improvised troughs, where Garrard's cavalry had fed 
their horses. After awhile the sweet womanly spirit 
that presided over this little group, got a quilt and a 
shawl or two, and made a pallet for the children. 
The boys put more wood upon the fire, and some in 
the jambs of the fire-place, to be used during the 
night; and then they went behind us and lay down 
upon the floor, with seed cotton for pillows, and the 
roof for covering. Our kind hostess placed addi- 
tional wraps over the shoulders of Maggie and 
myself, and we three sat up in our chairs and slept 
until the dawn. 

Accustomed to looking after out-door interests, 
I went out to see how Yankee was coming on, and 
found him none the worse for the preceding day's 
toil. Everything indicated that he had fared as 
sumptuously as we had — a partly eaten pumpkin, corn, 
whole ears yet in the trough, and fodder near by, 
plainly showed the generosity of the noble little 
family that took us in and gave us the best they had. 



DURING THE WAR. 177 

After breakfast we bade adieu to the good mother 
and her children, and went on our way, if not 
rejoicing, at least feeling better for liavi ng seen and 
been with such good people. There was a strong tie 
between us all. The husband and father was oflp in 
the army, like our loved ones. Tlie generous feeding 
given to our steed had so braced him up that he 
began to walk faster, and was keenly appreciative of 
every kind word; and I and he formed a friendship 
for each other that continued to his dying day. The 
road was very rough and hilly, and more than once 
he showed signs of fatigue; but a word of encour- 
agement seemed to renew his strength, and he walked 
bravely on. Maggie would perhaps have lightened 
his load by walking, now and then, but the jolting 
of the wagon kept the trunks in perpetual motion, 
and the lives of the children would thereby have 
been jeopardized. 

Nothing of special interest transpired this second 
day of our journey. The same fiend of destruction 
had laid his ruthless hand upon everything within his 
reach. The woods had been robbed of their beauty 
and the fields of their products; not even a bird was 
left to sing a requiem over the scene of desolation, 
nor an animal to suggest where once had been a habi- 
tation. Once, crouching near a standing chimney, 
there was a solitary dog who kept at bay every 
attempt to approach — no kind word would conciliate 
or put him off his guard. Poor, lonely sentinel ! Did 
he remember that around the once cheerful hearth- 



178 • LIFE IN DIXIE ' 

Htone he had been admitted to a place with the family 
group? Was he awaiting his master's return? Ah, 
who can know the emotions, or the dim reasonings of 
that faithful brute ! 

Night again came on and I discovered that we 
were approaching the hospitable mansion of Mr. 
Montgomery, an excellent, courtly country gentleman, 
who was at home under circumstances not now remem- 
bered. He and his interesting family gladly wel- 
comed me and my little charge and entertained us 
most hospitably. The raiders had been here and 
helped themselves bountifully, but they had spared 
the house for another time, and that other time came 
soon, and nothing was left on the site of this beauti- 
ful home but ubiquitous chimneys. 

An early start the next day enabled Yankee to 
carry Maggie and her children and the trunks to 
Social Circle in time to take the noon train for Mad- 
ison. So far as Maggie and her children were con- 
cerned I now felt that I had done all that I could, 
and that I must hasten back to my lonely mother at 
Decatur; but Maggie's tearful entreaties not to be 
left among strangers prevailed with me, and I got 
aboard the train with her, and never left her until I 
had placed her and her children in the care of good 
Mr. Thrasher at Madison, to be conveyed by him to 
the home of Mrs. Reeves, her husband's sister. 

In Madison I, too, had dear friends and relatives, 
with whom I spent the night, and the morning's train 
bore me back to Social Circle, then the terminus of 



DURING THE WAR. 179 

the Georgia railroad — the war fiend having destroyed 
every rail between there and Atlanta. Arriving there, 
imagine my surprise and indignation when I learned 

that Mr. R , whom I had paid in advance to care 

for Yankee while I was gone to Madison, had sent 
him out to his sorghum mill and put him to grinding 
cane ; and it was with much difficulty and delay that 
I got him in time to start on my homeward journey 
that afternoon. Instead of his being rested, he was 
literally broken down, and my pity for him con- 
strained me to walk every step of the way back to 
Decatur. While waiting for the horse I purchased 
such articles of food as I could find. For instance, 
a sack of flour, for which I paid a hundred dollars; a 
bushel of potatoes ; several gallons of sorghum ; a 
few pounds of butter, and a few pounds of meat. 
Even this was a heavy load for the poor jaded horse. 
Starting so late I could only get to the hospitable 
home of Mr. Crew, distant only about three miles 
from ^^The Circle." 

Before leaving Mr. Crew's, the next morning, I 
learned that an immense yankee raid had come out 
from Atlanta, and had burned the bridge which I had 
crossed only two days ago. This information caused 
me to take another route to Decatur, and my heart 
lost much of its hope, and my step its alacrity. Yet 
the Lord sustained me in the discharge of duty. I 
never wavered when there was a principal to be 
guarded, or a duty to be performed. Those were 
praying days with me, and now I fervently invoked 



180 LIFE IN DIXIE 

God^s aid and protection in my perilous undertaking, 
and I believed that He would grant aid and protec- 
tion. 

That I might giv^e much needed encouragement to 
Yankee, I walked by his side with my hand upon his 
shoulder much of the time, an act of endearment 
which be greatly appreciated, and proved that he did 
so by the expression of his large brown eyes. One of 
my idiosyncrasies through life, has been that of count- 
ing everything, and as I journeyed homeward, I found 
myself counting my steps from one to a thousand and 
one. As there is luck in odd numbers, says Rory 
O^Moore, I always ended with the traditional odd 
number, and by telling Yankee how much nearer 
home we were. And I told him many things, among 
them, soto voce, that I did not believe he was a yan- 
kee, but a raptured rebel. If a tuft of grass appeared 
on the road side, he was permitted to crop it ; or if a 
muscadine vine with its tempting grapes was discov- 
ered, he cropped the leaves off the low shrubbery, 
while I gathered the grapes for my mother at home 
with nothing to eat save the one article of diet, of 
which I have told before. 

A minute description of this portion of the war- 
stricken country would fill a volume ; but only the 
leading incidents and events of the journey are ad- 
missible in a reminiscence of war times. In the early 
part of the day, during this solitary drive, I came 
to a cottage by the wayside that was a perfect gem — 
an oasis, an everything that could thrill the heart by 



DURING THE WAR. 181 

ity loveline^.s. Flower.s of every hue beautified the 
grounds and sweetened the air, and peace and plenty 
seemed to hold undisputed sway. The Fiend of De- 
struction had not yet reached this little Eden. Two 
gentlemen were in the yard conversing. T perceived 
at a glance that they w^ere of the clerical order, and 
would fain have spoken to them; but not wishing to 
disturb them, or attract attention to my.self, I was 
passing by as unobtrusively as possible, when I was 
espied and recognized by one of them, who proved to 
be that saintly man, Rev. \\ alter Branham. He in- 
troduced me to his friend, Professor Shaw of Oxford. 
Their sympathy for me was plainly expressed, and 
they gave me much needed instruction regarding the 
route, and suggested that I would about get to Rev. 
Henry Clark's to put up for the night. With a hearty 
shake of the hand, and '^God bless you, noble wo- 
man," I pursued my lonely way, and they went theirs. 
No other adventure enlivened the day, and poor pa- 
tient Yankee did the best he could, and so did I. It 
was obvious that he had done about all he could. 
Grinding sorghum under a hard taskmaster, with an 
empty stomach, had told on him, and he could no 
longer quicken his pace at the sound of a friendly 
voice. 

At length we came in sight of " Uncle Henry 
Clark's" place. 1 stood amazed, bewildered. T felt 
as if I would sink to the ground, yea, through it. I 
was riveted to the spot on which I stood. I could 
not move. At length I cried — cried like a woman in 



182 LIFE IN DIXIE 

despair. Poor Yankee must have cried too, (for water 
ran out of his eyes) and in some measure I was 
quieted, for misery loves company, and I began to take 
in the situation more calmly. Elegant rosewood and 
mahogany furniture, broken into a thousand fragments, 
covered the face of the ground as far as I could see; 
and china and glass looked as if it had been sown. 
And the house, what of that? Alas! it too had been 
scattered to the four winds of heaven in the form of 
smoke and ashes. Not even a chimney stood to mark 
its site. Near by stood a row of negro cabins, intact, 
showing that while the conflagration was going on 
they had been sedulously guarded. And these cabins 
were occupied by the slaves of the plantation. Men, 
women and children stalked about in restless uncer- 
tainty, and in surly indifference. They had been led 
to believe that the country would be apportioned to 
them; but they had sense enough to know that such a 
mighty revolution involved trouble and delay, and 
they were supinely awaiting developments. Neither 
man, woman nor child approached me. There was 
mutual distrust and mutual avoidance. 

It took less time to take in this situation than it 
has to describe it. The sun was almost down, and as 
he turned his large red face upon me, I fancied he 
fain would have stopped in his course to see me out of 
this dilemma. What was I to do? The next nearest 
place that I could remember that would perhaps give 
protection for the night, was Mr. Fowler's, and this 
was my only hope. With one hand upon Yankee's 



DURING THE WAR. 183 

shoulder, and the ropes in the other, I moved on, 
and not until my expiring breath will I forget the 
pleading look which that poor dumb animal turned 
upon me when I started. Utterly helpless, and in 
my hands, he wondered how I could thus exact more 
of him. I wondered myself. But what \vas I to do 
but to move on? And with continuous supplication 
for the Lord to have mercy uj)on me, I moved on. 
More than once the poor horse turned that look, be- 
seeching and pathetic, upon me. It frightened me. 
I did not understand it, and still moved on. At last 
the hope of making himself understood forsook him, 
and he deliberately laid himself down in the I'oad. 
I knelt by his side and told him the true state of 
affairs, and implored him not to desert nic in this ter- 
rible crisis. I told him how cruel it would be to do 
so, and used many arguments of like character; but 
they availed nothing. He did not move, and his 
large, lustrous brown eyes seemed to say for him: 
^' I have done all 1 can, and can do no more." And 
the sun could bear it no longer, and hid his crimson 
face behind a great black cloud. 

What could I do but rise from my imploring atti- 
tude and face my perilous situation? "Lord have 
mercy upon me," was my oft-repeated invocation. 
The first thing which greeted my vision wiicn I rose 
to my feet was a very distant but evidently an ad- 
vancing object. I watched it with bated breath, and 
soon had the satisfaction of seeing a man on mule 
back. I ran to meet him, saying: "O, sir. I know 



184 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the good Lord has sent you here!" And then 1 
recounted my trouble, and received most cordial sym- 
pathy from one who had been a Confederate soldier, 
but who was now at home in consequence of wounds 
that incapacitated him for further service. When he 
had heard all, he said : 

''I would take you home with me, but I have to 
cross a swimming creek before getting there, and I 
am afraid to undertake to carry you. Wait here until 
I see these negroes. They are a good set, and what- 
ever they promise, they will, I think, carry out faith- 
fully." 

The time seemed interminable before he came back, 
and night, black night, had set in; and yet a quiet 
resignation sustained me. 

When my benefactor returned, two negro men 
came with him, one of whom brought a lantern bright 
and cheery. ''I have arranged for you to be cared 
for here," said he. '^Several of the old house ser- 
vants of Mrs. Clark know you, and they will prove 
themselves worthy of the trust we repose in them." 
I accepted the arrangement made by this good man, 
and entrusted myself to the care of the negroes for the 
night. This 1 did with great trepidation, but as soon 
as I entered the cabin an assurance of safety filled my 
mind with peace, and reconciled me to my surround- 
ings. The ''mammy" that presided over it, met me 
with a cordial welcome and assured me that no trou- 
ble would befall me under her roof. An easy chair 
was placed for me in one corner, in comfortable prox- 



DURING THE WAli. 185 

imity to a large plantation fire. In afewniinute.s the 
men came in, bringing my flour, })otatoes, syrup, ba- 
con, etc. This sight gave me real satisfaction, as I 
thought of my poor patient mother at home, and 
hoped that in some way I should yet be able to con- 
vey to her this much needed freight. I soon espied a 
table on which was piled many books and magazines, 
^'Uncle Henry Clark's" theological books were well 
represented. 1 ])rop()sed reading to the women, if 
they would like to hear me, and soon had their undi- 
vided attention, as well as that of several of the men, 
who sat on the door steps. In this way several hours 
passed, and then ''mammy" said, ''You must be get- 
ting sleepy." "'Oh, no," I replied, "J frequently sit 
up all night reading." But this did not satisfy her; 
she had devised in her own mind something more hos- 
pitable for her guest, and she wanted to see it carried 
out. Calling into requisition the assistance of the 
men, she had two large cedar chests placed side by 
side, and out of these chests were taken nice clean 
quilts, and snow white counterpanes, and sheets, and 
pillows — Mrs. Clark's beautiful bed-clothing — and up- 
on those chests was made a pallet upon which a (jueen 
might have reposed with comfort. It was so tempt- 
ing in its cleanliness that I consented to lie down. 
The sole occupants of that room that night, were my- 
self, and my hostess, — the aforesaid black "mammy." 
Rest, not sleep, came to my relief. The tramping of 
feet, and now and then the muffled sound of human 
voices, kept me in a listening attitude, and it must be 



186 . LIFE ZA DIXIE 

• 
confessed in a state of painful apprehension. Thus 

the night passed. 

With the dawn of day, I was up, and ready to meet 
the day^s requirements. "Mammy's" first greeting 
was ''What's your hurry?" "I am accustomed to early 
rising. May I open the door?" The first thing 
I saw was Yankee, and he was standing and eating ; 
but he was evidently too weak to attempt the task of 
getting that cumbersome vehicle and its freight to 
Decatur. So I arranged with one of the men to put 
a steer to the wagon and carry them home. This he 
was to do for the sum of one hundred dollars. After 
an appetizing breakfast, I started homeward, leading 
Yankee in the rear of this turnout. Be it remember- 
ed, I did not leave without making ample compensa- 
tion for my night's entertainment. 

No event of particular interest occurred on the way 
to Decatur. Yankee walked surprisingly well, and 
the little steer acquitted himself nobly. In due time 
Decatur appeared in sight, and then there ensued a 
scene which for pathos defies description. Matron 
and maiden, mother and child, each with a tin can 
picked up oif the enemy's camping ground, ran after 
me and begged for just a little something to eat — just 
enough to keep them from starving. Not an appli- 
cant was refused, and by the time the poor, rickety, 
cumbersome wagon reached its destination, its contents 
had been greatly diminished. But there was yet 
enough left to last for some time the patient, loving 
mother, the faithful Telitha, and myself. 



DURING THE WAB. 187 

A siimmary of the trip developed these facts: To 
the faithfulness of Uncle Mack was due the holding 
together of the most grotesque vehicle ever dignified 
by the name of wagon ; over all that rough road it 
remained intact, and returned as good as when it 
started. And, but for the sorghum grinding, poor 
Yankee would have acted his part unfalteringly. As 
for myself, I labored under the hallucination that I 
was a Confederate soldier, and deemed no task too 
great for me to essay, if it but served either directly or 
indirectly those who were fighting my battles. 



188 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XY. 

A SECOND TRIP FOR SUPPLIES. 

Gathering ''fodder" from a cane-brake as a preliminary— 
The lonely journey — Changing Yanliee's name — I meet 
the Federal raiders. 

At an early liour in the morning of a bright autumnal 
day, in that memorable year 1864 — the saddest of 
them all — Yankee was roped, (not bridled, mark you,) 
and crocus sacks, four for him, one for Telitha, and 
one for myself, thrown over his back, and we three, 
boon companions in diversified industries, scampered 
off to a neighboring cane-brake — a favorite resort in 
those days, but now, alas for human gratitude! never 
visited for the sake of "auld lang syne.'^ 

Perfect health — thanks to the parents who trans- 
mitted no constitutional taint to my veins — unusual 
strength, and eslasticity of motion, soon carried me 
there, and having secured Yankee to a clump of 
canes luxuriant with tender twigs and leaves, sweet- 
ened by the cool dews of the season, Telitha and I 
entered upon the work of cutting twigs and pulling 
fodder. 

There being no drainage in those times, I often 
stepped upon little hillocks, covered with grass or 



DUBI^G THE WAR. 189 

some aquatic vegetation, that yielded to my weight, 
and I sank into the mud and water ankle keep, at 
least, and Telitha was going through with similar 
experiences. I often laughed at her grimaces and 
other expressions of disgust in the slough of despond, 
and rejoiced with her when she displayed the trophies 
of success, consisting of nice brittle twigs, generously 
clad in tender leaves and full growth ; Yankee too, 
was unmindful of small difficulties, and did his ^^level 
best" in providing for a rainy day by filling his capa- 
cious paunch brimful of the good things so bounti- 
fully supplied by Providence in the marshes of old 
DeKalb. By the time the aforesaid half dozen sacks 
were filled, the enlargement of that organ of his 
anatomy suggested that he proposed carrying home 
about as much inside of him as might be imposed 
upon his back — of this sagacity he seemed conscious, 
and very proud, and when the sacks of cane were put 
over his back, pannier fashion, he pursued the path 
homeward with prouder air and nobler mien than 
that which marked his course to the cane-brake. 

When we three were fully equipped for starting 
back to the deserted village, Yankee, as already 
described, and 1 with a sack of cane thrown over my 
right shoulder and reaching nearly to my heels, and 
Telitha in apparel and equipment an exact duplicate 
of myself, I was so overcome by the ludicrous fea- 
tures of the scene that for the time I lost sight of the 
pathetic and yielded to inordinate laughter. As 
memory, electrical and veracious, recapitulated the 



190 LIFE IN DIXIE 

facts and circumstances leading to this state of affairs, 
I realized that there was but one alternative — to laugh 
or to cry — but the revolutionary blood coursing 
through my veins decided in favor of the former, and 
I laughed until I could no longer stand erect, even 
though braced by an inflexible bag of cane, and I igno- 
miniously toppled over. As I lay upon the ground 
I laughed, not merrily but grimly, as I fancy a hyena 
would laugh. The more I sought the sympathy of 
Telitha in this hilarious ebullition, the more uncon- 
trollable it became. Her utter want of appreciation 
of the fun, and a vague idea that she was in some 
way implicated, embarrassed her, and, judging from 
her facial expression, ever varying and often pathetic, 
wounded her also. In vain did I point to our docile 
equine, whose tethering line she held. His enlarged 
proportions and grotesque accoutrements failed to 
touch a single risible chord, or convey to her utilita- 
rian mind aught that was amusing, and she doubtless 
wondered what could have so affected me. 

In due time we reached Decatur. After passing 
the Hoyle place, the residence being then deserted, 
Telitha indicated by signs too intelligible to be mis- 
understood that she would go home with her sack of 
stock provender, leading the horse, and then come 
back for mine, and I could go by a different route 
and not be known as a participant in the raid upon 
the canebrake ; but I was too proud of my fidelity to 
the Southern ( 'onfederacy to conceal any evidences of 
it that the necessities of the times called into action, 



DURING THE M'AR. 191 

and I walked through the stricken village with my 
sack of caue in my arms instead of uj)on my 
back; and would have walked as proudly to the sac- 
rificial altar, myself the offering, if by so doing I 
could have retrieved the fortunes of my people and 
established for them a government among the nations 
of earth. 

The lowing of our cow reached me as I entered the 
court-house square, and I hastened my gait and soon 
displayed before her, in her stall in the cellar, a tempt- 
ing repast. And my mother, who possessed the fac- 
ulty of making something good out of that which was 
ordinary, displayed one equally tempting to me and 
Telitha — milk and mush, supplemented by coifee made 
of parched okra seed. 

''Tired nature's sweet restorer" faithfully per- 
formed its recuperative service that night. When I 
opened my eyes upon the glorious light of another 
day, I was so free from the usual attendants upon 
fatigue that I involuntarily felt for my body — it 
seemed to have passed away during the night, and 
left no trace of former existence. I found it, though, 
perfectly intact, and ready to obey the behests of my 
will and serve me through the requirements of another 
day. And my mother seemed to be in her usual 
health and willing for me to do anything I thought I 
ought to do. She could not close her eyes to the fact 
that our store of supplies was nearly exhausted, and that 
there was only one way to replenish it; and she had 
the wisdom and the Christian grace to acquiesce to 



192 LIFE AY DIXIE 

the inevitable without a discouraging word. Telitha, 
upon whose benighted mind the ridiculous phases of 
the previous day's adventures had dawned sometime 
in the interim, laughed as soon as she saw me, and in 
well acted pantomime made me fully aware that she 
enjoyed at this late hour the ludicrous scene that had 
so amused me. And Yankee evidently smiled when 
he saw me, and greeted me with a joyous little whicker 
that spoke volumes. 

A good breakfast for women and beast having been 
disposed of, I wended my way in quest of Uncle 
Mack. He alone understood the complicated process 
of harnessing Yankee in ropes to the primitive vehicle 
manufactured by his own ingenious hands, and to 
him I always went when this important task had to 
be performed. On this occasion, as upon others, it 
was soon executed. When all was ready and the un- 
bidden tears dashed away, as if out of place, I seized 
the ropes and started. Where? Ah, that ^vas the ques- 
tion. There was only one place that offered hope of 
remuneration for the perilous undertaking, and forty 
miles had to be traversed before reaching it. Forty 
miles through a devastated country. Forty miles 
amid untold dangers. But in all the walks of life it 
has been demonstrated that pluck and energy, and a 
firm reliance upon Providence, are necessary to'sur- 
mount difficulties, and of all these essentials I had a 
goodly share, and never doubted but that I would l)e 
taken care of, and my wants and those of others sup- 
plied. "God helps those who help themselves," is 



DURING THE WAR. 193 

an adage whicli deserves to be emblazoned upon every 
tree, and imprinted upon every heart. That vain 
presumption that folds the hands, and prays for ben- 
efits and objects desired, without putting forth any 
effort to obtain them, ought to be rebuked by all 
good men and women as a machination of Satan. 

These and similar reflections nerved me for the task 
before me, and I started in earnest. When I got to 
''the blacksmith shop," I looked back and saw my 
mother standing just where I left her, following me 
with her eyes. I looked back no more lest I dissolve 
in tears. As I passed the few abodes that were ten- 
anted, my mission ''out" was apprehended, and I was 
besought in tearful tones to bring back with me all I 
could, by those who told me that they and their chil- 
dren were upon the verge of starvation. I took all 
the sacks which were handed to me and rolled them 
together, and by the aid of a string secured them to 
the cart, and amidst blessings and good wishes pur- 
sued my devious way; for, be it remembered, many 
obstructions, such as breast-works and thorny hedge- 
wood, presented formidable barriers to rapid travel for 
a considerable distance from Decatur. 

While leisurely walking beside Yankee, I was 
struck with the agility of his motion and his improved 
figure since we traveled over these grounds a few 
weeks before. He had taken on a degree of symme- 
try that I never supposed attainable by the poor, ema- 
ciated animal which I captured in the canebrake. 
His hair had become soft and silky, and in the sun- 



194 LIFE IN DIXIE 

light displayed artistic shades of coloring from light to 
deepest brown; and his long, black tail, which hung 
limp and perpendicular, now affected a curve which 
even Hogarth might have admired, and his luxuriant 
and glossy mane waved prettily as a maiden's tresses. 
And his face, perfect in every lineament, and devoid 
of any indication of acerbity, lighted by large, liquid, 
brown eyes, would have been a fit model — a thing of 
beauty — for the pencil of Rosa Bonheur. Rubbing 
my hand over his silky coat and enlarged muscles, I 
decided to enjoy the benefit of his increased strength 
and gently ordered a halt. Stepping from the ground 
to the hub of the wheel, another step landed me into 
the cart, vehicle, wagon or landau, whichever you see 
proper to denominate it; I do not propose to confine 
myself to any one of these terms. 

Yankee understood the movement, and doubtless 
felt complimented. As soon as I took my seat in 
the chair — a concomitant part of the equipage — he 
started off at a brisk gait, which, without a word of 
command, he kept up until we came to the base of a 
long hill, and then he slackened his speed and leis- 
urely walked to the summit. I enjoyed going over 
ground without muscular effort of my own, and 
determined to remain in the cart until he showed 
some sign of fatigue. I had only to hold the ropes 
and speak an encouraging Avord, and we traveled on 
right merrily. Ah, no! That was a misnomer. 
Callous indeed would have been the heart who could 
have gone merrily over that devastated, impoverished 



DURING THE WAR, 195 

land. Sherman, with his destructive hosts, had been 
there, and nothing remained within the conquered 
boundary upon which ''Sheridan's Crow'' coukl have 
subsisted. Nothing was left but standing chimneys, 
and an occasional house, to which one would have 
supposed a battering ram had been applied. I looked 
up and down, and in every direction, and saw 
nothing but destruction, and the gaunt and malignant 
figure of General Starvation striding over our beautiful 
country, as if he possessed it. I shook my head 
defiantly at him and went on, musing upon these 
things. I never questioned the wisdom or goodness 
of God in permitting them, but I pondered upon 
them, and have never yet reached their unfathomable 
depths. 

At the end of the first day's journey, I found my- 
self twenty miles, or more, from the starting point, 
and tenderly cared for by a good family, consisting, in 
these war times, only of a mother and several precious 
little children, who were too glad to have company to 
consider my appeal for a night's entertainment intru- 
sive. This desolate mother and children thought they 
had seen all the horror of warfare illustrated by the 
premeditated cruelty of the Yankee raiders, and could 
not conceive how it could have been worse. But 
when I got through with my recital of injuries, they 
were willing that theirs should remain untold. A 
delicious supper, like manna from Heaven, was en- 
joyed with a zest unknown to those who have never 
been hungry. 



196 LIFE IN DIXIE 

The light of another day found us all up in that 
hospitable household, and an appetizing breakfast for- 
tified me for another day's labor in any field in 
which I might be called to perform it. The little 
boys who had taken Yankee out of the rope harness 
the evening before, remembered its intricacies and 
had no difficulty in getting him back into that com- 
plicated gear. When all was ready, and grateful 
good-byes had been uttered, I again mounted ''the 
hub" and got into the vehicle. After I had taken 
my seat, the good lady handed me a package, which 
proved to be a nice lunch for my dinner. She also 
had a sack of potatoes and a pumpkin stored away in 
the landau; and being a merciful woman, she thought 
of the horse, and gave some home-cured hay for his 
noon day meal. 

All day I followed in the track of Sherman's min- 
ions, and found the destruction greater than when I 
had passed in this direction before. Coming to a 
hill, the long ascent of which would be fatiguing to 
Yankee, I ordered a hrlt and got out of the wagon. 
Taking position by his side we climbed the hill to- 
gether, and then we went down it together, and con- 
tinued to journey side by side, I oblivious to ^very- 
thing but the destruction, either complete or partial, 
on every side. At length we came to a lovely wee 
bit stream of water, exulting in its consciousness that 
no enemy could arrest it in its course to the sea, or 
mar its beauty as it rippled onward. We halted, and 
I loosened the ropes so that Yankee might partake 



DURING THE WAR. 197 

of the flowing water before eating his noon day meal. 
And I am sure epicure never enjoyed hincheon at 
Delmonico's with more zest than I did the frugal 
meal prepared for me by the friendly hand of that 
dear Confederate woman. Much as 1 enjoyed it, I 
finished my dinner some time before Yankee did his, 
and employed the interim in laving my hands and 
face in the pure water, and contemplating myself in 
the perfect mirror formed by its surface. Not as 
Narcissus, did I enjoy this pastime, but as one startled 
by the revelation. Traces of care, of sorrow, of appre- 
hension for the future, were indelibly imprinted upon 
forehead and cheek, and most of all upon that most 
tell-tale of all features, the mouth. I wept at the 
change, and by way of diversion turned from the 
unsatisfactory contemplation of myself to that of Yan- 
kee. This horse, instinct with intelligence, appre- 
ciated every act of kindness, and often ex])ressed his 
gratitude in ways so human-like as to startle and 
almost aifright me. I am sure I have seen his face 
lighted by a smile, and radiant with gratitude. And 
no human being ever expressed more forcibly by 
word or act his sorrow at being unable to do all that 
was desired of him in emergency, than did this dumb 
brute when he gave me that long, earnest, pathetic 
look (mentioned in a former sketch) when, from sheer 
exhaustion, he lay down near the heap of ashes where 
once stood the beautiful residence of my friend of 
honored memory, Rev. Henry Clark. 

The more I contrasted the treatment which I in 



198 LIFE /A' DIXIE 

common with my couutry women and my country, 
had received at the bands of the Yankees, (the then 
exponent of the sentiment of the United States toward 
the Southern people) and the gentle, friendly demeanor 
of the animal upon whom I had unthoughtedly be- 
stowed a name constantly suggestive of an enemy, 
the more dissatisfied I became with it, and I deter- 
mined then and there to change it. Suiting the action 
to the decision, I gathered the ropes and led the 
noble steed to the brink of that beautiful little brook- 
let, and — paused for a name. What should it be? 
"Democrat?" I believed him to be a democrat, true 
and tried, and yet I did not much like the name. 
Had not the Northern Democrats allowed themselves 
to be allured into abolition ranks, and made to do the 
fighting, while the abolitionists, under another name, 
devastated the country and enriched themselves by 
the booty. "Copperhead?" I did not like that 
much. It had a metallic ring that grated harshly 
upon my nerves, and I was not then aware of their 
great service to the South in restraining and keeping 
subordinate to humanity, as far as in them lay, the 
hatred and evil passions of the abolitionists. " Johnny 
Reb?" Ah, I had touched the key-note at last, and 
it awakened a responsive chord that vibrated through- 
out my very being. I had had a secret belief, more 
than once expressed in words, that my noble equine 
was a captured rebel "held in durance vile" until 
bereft of health and strength, then abandoned to die 
upon the commons. "Johnny Reb!" 1 no longer 



DURING THE WAR. 199 

hesitated. Tlie name was electrical, and the chord 
with which it came in contact was charged to its ut- 
most capacity. With the placid waters of that ever- 
flowing stream, in the name of the Soutliern Confed- 
eracy, I christened one of the best friends I ever had 
'* Johnny Reb," a name ever dear to me. 

This ceremony having been performed to my satis- 
faction and to his, too — ^judging by the complaisant 
glances, and, as I fancied, by the suggestion of an 
approving smile which he bestowed upon me — I 
mounted the hub, stepped into the cart, seated myself, 
and with ropes in hand continued my way to "The 
Circle," and arrived there before night. Kot being 
tired, I immediately struck out among the vendors of 
home-made:products — edibles, wearing apparel, etc. — 
for the purpose of purchasing a Avagon load to carry 
to Decatur, not for the ignoble purpose of speculation, 
but to bestow, without money and without price, upon 
those w4io, like my mother and myself, preferred hun- 
ger and privation rather than give up our last earthly 
hcMne to the destroying fiend that stalked over our 
land protected by Federal bayonets. 

Before the shades of night came on I had accom- 
plished my object. As a matter of history, 1 will 
enumerate some of the articles purchased, and annex 
the prices paid for them in Confederate money: 

One bushel of meal $10 00 

Four bushels of corn 40 00 

Fifteen pounds of flour . 7 50 



200 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Four pounds dried apples $ 5 00 

One and a half pounds butter 6 00 

A bushel of sweet potatoes ._ 6 00 

Three gallons of syrup 15 00 

Shoeing the horse 25 00 

For spending the night at Mrs. Born's, self 

and horse 10 00 

Not knowing the capabilities of ^'Johnny Reb," I 
feared to add one hundred and thirty-six pounds 
avoirdupois weight, to a cart already loaded to reple- 
tion, and the next morning on starting took my old 
familiar place by his side. To my slightest touch or 
word of encouragement, he ga^^e me an appreciative 
look, and obeyed to the letter my wishes with regard 
to his gaits — slow or fast in adaptation to mine. In 
due time we again rested on the banks of the beauti- 
ful little stream hallowed by the memory of repudiat- 
ing a name, rendered by the vandalism of its legiti- 
mate owners too obnoxious to be borne by a noble 
horse, and by the bestowing upon him of another 
more in keeping with his respect for ladies and other 
fine traits of character which he possessed. ' Neither 
he nor I had a lunch with which to regale ourselves; 
and whilst he moved about at will, cropping little 
tufts of wild growth and tender leaves, which instinct 
taught him were good for his species, I abandoned 
myself to my favorite pursuit — the contemplation of 
nature. Like Aurora Leigh, I ''found books among 
the hills and vales, and running brooks,'^ and held 



DUBING THE WAR. 201 

communion with their varied forms and invisible in- 
fluences. To me they ever spoke of the incompre- 
hensible wisdom and goodness of God. My heart, 
from my earliest recollection, always went out in 
adoration to Him who could make alike the grand 
old Titans of the forest and the humblest blade of 
grass; and now I beheld them under circumstances 
peculiarly calculated to evoke admiration. Change 
had come to everything else. The lofty trees stood 
in silent grandeur, undisturbed by the ememy's step 
or the harsh clarion of war — as if defiant of danger — 
and gave shelter and repose to the humblest of God^s 
creatures who sought their protecting arms. Beguiled 
by the loveliness of the woodland scenery, I often 
found myself stopping to dageurreotype it upon the 
tablets of my memory, and to feast my senses upon 
the aromatic perfume of wild wood autumn llowers. 
"Strong words of counseling" I found in thoni, and 
in "the vocal pines and waters," and out of these 
books I learned "the ignorance of men." 

"And how G(^d laughs in Heaven when any man 
Says, 'Here I'm learned; this I understand; 
In that I am never caught at tault, or in doubt.'" 

A word of friendly greeting and renewed thanks to 
mine hostess of two nights before, and her dear little 
children, detained me only a very short and unbe- 
grudged space of time; and during that time I did 
not forget to refer to the potatoes and the ])umpkin 
so kindly given to me by them on my down trip, and 



202 LIFE IN DIXIE 

which I could have left in their care until my return, 
had I thought of it. 

Night again came on, and this time found me pick- 
ing my way as best I could over the rocks shadowed 
by Stone Mountain. On I plodded through the dark- 
ness, guided rather by the unerring step of Johnny 
Reb than any knowledge I had of the way. At 
length the poor faithful animal and myself were re- 
warded for perseverance by seeing glimmering lights 
of the mountain village. We struck a bee line for 
the nearest one, and were soon directed to ''a board- 
ing house." I was too glad to get into it then, to 
descant upon its demerits now. I assured the land- 
lady that I needed no supper myself, and would pay 
her what she would charge for both if she would see 
that the horse was well fed. I think she did so. 
My valuable freight could not remain in the cart all 
night, and there was no one to bring it in. In vain 
did she assure me that I would find it all right if I 
left it there. I got into the cart and lifted the sacks 
and other things out of it myself, and, by the help of 
the aforesaid person, got everything into^ the house. 
I fain would have lain down by these treasures, for 
they had increased in value beyond computation since 
leaving Social Circle, and would have done so but 
for repeated assurances of their safety. 

An early start next morning gave me the privilege 
of going over the ground familiar to my youth in the 
loveliest part of the day, and when the sun looked at 
me over the mountain's crest I felt as if I was in the 



DURTNO THE WAIL 203 

presence of a veritable king, and wanted to take my 
bonnet off and make obeisance to him. His benefi- 
cent rays fell alike upon the just and the unjust, and 
lighted the pathway of the destroyer as brightly as 
that of the benefactor. Amid destruction, wanton 
and complete, and over which angels might weep, I 
stepped the distance oif between Stone Mountain and 
Judge Bryce'g; not a living thing upon the face of the 
earth, nor a sound of any kind greeting me — the des- 
olation of war reigned supreme. I again stopped at 
Judge Bryce's, and implored his protection to Deca- 
tur, but, as on the former occasion, he was afraid to 
leave his wife to the tender mercy (?) of the enemy. 
He told me he feared I would not reach home with 
my cart of edibles, as ''Yankee raiders had been com- 
ing out from Atlanta every day lately," and that the 
set that was now coming was more vindictive than 
any that had preceded it. Good, dear Mrs. Bryce, 
trusting in the Lord for future supplies, took a little 
from her scanty store of provisions and added it to 
mine for her friend, my mother. 

With many forebodings of evil, I took up the line 
of march to Decatur. I looked almost w^ith regret 
upon my pretty horse. Had he remained the poor 
ugly animal that was lassoed in the cane-brake, I 
would have had but little fear of losing him, but un- 
der my fostering care, having become pretty plump 
and sprightly, I had but little hope of keeping him. 
Being absorbed by these mournful reflections and not 
having the ever-watchful Telitha with me to announce 



204 . LIFE IN DIXIE 

danger from afar, I was brought to a full realization 
of its proximity by what appeared to be almost an 
army of blue-coats, dashing up on spirited horses, and 
for the purpose of humiliating me, hurrahing ^^for 
Jefferson Davis and the Southern Confederacy." As 
a flag of truce, I frantically waved my bonnet, which 
act was misapprehended and taken as a signal of ap- 
proval of their ''hurrah for Jefferson Davis and the 
Southern Confederacy," which was resounding with- 
out intermission. 

Seeing several very quiet, dignified looking gentle- 
men, who, although apart from the others, seemed to 
be exercising a restraining influence, I approached 
them and told them how I had gone out from Deca- 
tur unprotected and all alone to get provisions to 
keep starvation from among our defenseless women 
and children, and that I had to go all the way to 
Social Circle before I could get anything, and that I 
had walked back in order to save the horse as much 
as possible. These men, however, although seemingly 
interested, questioned and cross-questioned me until 
I had but little hope of their protection. One of 
them said, ''I see you have one of our horses. How 
did you come by him?" And then the story of how 
I came by him was recapitulated w^ithout exaggera- 
tion or diminuation. This narrative elicited renewed 
hurrahs for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Con- 
federacy. A few minutes private conversation be- 
tween these gentlemen ensued, -and all of them ap- 
proached me, and the spokesman said, ''Two of us 



DUBING THE WAR. 205 

will escort you to Decatur, and see that no harm 
befall you.'' It seemed, tlien,, that no greater boon 
could have been offered under the canopy of Heaven, 
and I am sure no woman could have experienced 
more gratitude or been more profuse in its expression. 
The sight of my nervous, greyhaired mother, and 
her pretty mother ways, touched another tender chord 
in the hearts of these gentlemen, and if constraint 
existed it was dispelled, and they became genial and 
very like friends before they left. They even prom- 
ised to send us some oats for noble Johnny Reb, who 
displayed the greatest equanimity all through these 
trying scenes. 



206 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XYi. 

NEWS FROM THE ABSENT BROTHER. 

He marches into Tennessee with Hood — Extracts from his 
letters written on the way — Two ears of parched corn — 
The night burial of a soldier. 

After the majority of these sketches were written, 
I was permitted by my sister to take a few extracts 
from the cherished letters of our brother, which she 
numbered and carefully laid away as her most precious 
treasure. To these we are indebted for all that w^e 
know of his history during the trying days and weeks 
of which I have just been writing. Where was he, 
and how did he fare? Few and far between were the 
letters now, in these dark days of the war. The sol- 
diers themselves had but little opportunity to write, 
and the mail facilities were poor. But* I feel sure 
that to the survivors of the '' Lost Cause,'' these 
meager scraps concerning that brave but disastrous 
march into Tennessee will be read with melancholy 
interest : 

'^On the line of Alabama and Georgia, 
[N'ear Alpine, Ga., 8 o'clock at night, Oct. 17, 1864. 

My Dear Sister: As there is a probability of 
the mail courier leaving here early in the morning, 



DUBING THE WAR. 207 

I hastily scratch you a few lines that you may know 
that under the blessings of a kind providence I am 
yet alive, and, though somewhat wearied, enjoying 
good health. Yours of 28th of September has been 
received, but under circumstances of hard marches, 
etc., there has been but one opportunity of writing to 
you since leaving Palmetto, and then had just finished 
one to Texas, and was fixing to write to you, when 
the order came to 'fall in.' 

''Well, leaving camps near Palmetto on the 29th 
of September, we crossed the Chattahoochee below, 
marched up to Powder Springs, threatened Marietta, 
and at the same time throwing Stewart's corps around 
above Big Shanty to cut the railroad, which was torn 
up for about thirteen miles, French's Division attack- 
ing Alatoona, where he sustained some loss, having 
works to charge. Ector's Texas Brigade, and some 
Missourians, carried their part of the works; but 
A 's Brigade failed to do their part, hence the ad- 
vantage gained was lost. By this time the enemy 
were concentrating at Marietta, and General Hood's 
object being accomplished, he then marched rapidly 
towards Rome, flanking the place, and making a 
heavy demonstration as if he intended crossing the 
river and attacking the place. The enemy then com- 
menced a concentration at Kingston and Rome. We 
then moved around Rome and marched rapidly up 
the Oostanaula, and on the evening of the 11th inst., 
sent a division of infantry with some cavalry across 
the river, and captured Calhoun with some stores. 



208 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Moved on the next morning by a forced march, flank- 
ing Resaca, and striking the railroad immediately 
above, tearing it up to Tilton, where there were about 
three hundred Yankees in a block house. A surren- 
der was demanded. A reply was returned: ' If you 
want us, come and take us.' Our artillery was soon 
in position, and a few shots soon made them show the 
^ white rag.' We tore up the road that night, and the 
next morning by nine o'clock, to Tunnel Hill, burn- 
ing every cross-tie and twisting the bars. Dalton 
surrendered without a fight, with a full garrison of 
negroes and some white Yankees. The block house 
above, at a bridge, refused to surrender, and we had 
to bring the artillery into requisition again, which 
made them succumb. They all seemed to be taken 
by surprise and were hard to convince that it was a 
cavalry raid. They evacuated Tunnel Hill. Thus 
after five months of fighting and running, the army 
of Tennessee re-occupied Dalton. Sherman has been 
taken by surprise. He never dreamed of such a 
move. General Hood's plans all being carried out, 
so far as the State road was concerned, we marched 
across the mountains to LaFayette, in the vicinity of 
which we camped last night, and have marched twen- 
ty-three miles to-day. To-morrow we cross the 
Lookout Mountain, and will, I suppose, make directly 
for the Tennessee river, though of this I'm not cer- 
tain. Hood has shown himself a general in strat- 
egy, and has secured the confidence of the troops. 



DURING THE WAR. 209 

Wherever we go, may God's blessing attend wa. Pray 
for me. In haste. 

Your affectionate brother, 

Tom Stokes.^* 

P. S. — Cherokee Co., Ala., Oct. 18, 1864. 
The courier not leaving this morning, I have a 
little more time left. We did not travel so far to-day 
as I heard we would, having come only ten miles, 
and have stopped to rest the balance of the evening. 
I find you dislike to have your communications cut 
off, so I see you are below Madison. Would to 
Heaven that, in one sense of the word, my communi- 
cation was cut off forever; yea, that every channel 
leading me in contact with the loorld, in any other 
character than as a minister of ^'the meek and lowly 
Saviour,^' was to me forever blocked up. I am tired 
of confusion and disorder — tired of living a life of 
continual excitement. * * * You spoke of pass- 
ing through a dark cloud. ^^ There is nothing true 
but Heaven," and it is to that rest for the weary, 
alone, to which we are to look for perfect enjoyment. 
We are to walk by faith, and though the clouds of 
trouble thicken, yet we should know that if we do 
our duty we shall see and feel the genial sunshine of 
a happier clime. Yes, my sister, though we knew our 
lives should be lengthened one hundred years, and 
every day should be full of trouble; yet if we have a 
hope of Heaven, that hope should buoy up the soul 
to be cheerful even under earth\s saddest calamities. 



210 LIFE IN DIXIE 

I think we will cross the Tennessee river and make 
for Tennessee, where it seems to be understood that 
we wall have large accessions to our army both there 
and from Kentucky. '=^ ''^ */^ 

The next letter is enclosed in an envelope which 
came through no post-office, as it was furnished by 
my sister, and upon it she wrote: ^'This letter was 
sent to me on the 27th of November, by some one 
who picked it up upon the street in Madison, The 
post-office had been rifled by the federals who (under 
command of Slocum) passed through Madison, Novem- 
ber 18th and 19th. Though found without an envel- 
ope, and much stained, it has reached me, because 
signed with his full name." 

This letter is dated ^^Near Decatur, Ala., October 
28th, 1864." We give a few items: 

"We invested this place yesterday, and there has 
been some skirmishing and artillery firing until an 
hour ago, when it seems to have measurably ceased. 
We are in line of battle southwest of Decatur, about 
one and a quarter miles. I went out 'reconnoitering 
this morning, and saw the enemy's position. They 
have a large fort immediately in the town, with the 
^ stars and stripes' waving above. I hear occasional 
distant artillery firing which I suppose is Forrest, 
near Huntsville. * * * ^y^ were several days 
crossing Sand Mountain. Have had delightful weather 
until a day or two ago it rained, making the roads 
very muddy, in consequence of which we have been 
on small rations, the supply trains failing to get up. 



DURING THE WAR. 211 

We had only half rations yesterday, and have had 
none to-day (now nearly three o'clock) but will get 
some to-night. We try to be cheerful. * * ^- 
No letter from Texas yet. Not one of our company 
has had any intelligence from Johnson county since 
last May. I can't see what's the matter. I have 
been absent nearly one year, and have received l)ut 
one letter." (Of course the dear loved ones in Texas 
wrote to their soldier braves on this side the Missis- 
sippi river; but such are the misfortunes of war that 
these missives were long delayed in their passage.) 

^'Saturday, October 29th. — The condition of affairs 
this morning at sunrise remains, so far as I know, 
unchanged. * '^ ^'^ Yesterday evening we drew 
two ears of corn for a day's rations ; so parched corn 
was all we had yesterday ; but we will get plenty to- 
day." 

And now we come to the last of the letters ever 
received. It is probable it was among the last he 
ever wrote, ft is dated "Tuscumbia, Ala., Nov. 10, 
1864. * * * ''We arrived at this place the 31st 
of October, and have been here since, though what we 
are waiting for I can't tell. The pontoons are across 
the river, and one corps on the other side at Florence. 
We have had orders to be ready to move several 
times, but were countermanded. We were to have 
moved to-day, and even our wagons started off, but 
for some cause or other we have not gone. The river 
is rising very rapidly which may endanger the pon- 
toons. 



212 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Xoveraber 12tb. — I thought to send this off yester- 
day morning, but on account of the rain a few days 
ago, the mail carrier was delayed until last night 
which brought your dear letter of date Oct. 31st. It 
was handed me on my return from the graveyard, 
where I had been to perform the funeral ceremony of 
a member of the 6th Texas, who was killed yesterday 
morning by the fall of a tree. He had been in every 
battle in which this brigade was ever engaged; an 
interesting young man, only nineteen years of age. 

The scene at the graveyard was a solemn one, being 
some time in the night before we arrived. The cold, 
pale moon shone down upon us, and the deep still- 
ness which pervaded the whole scene, with the rough, 
uncouth, though tender-hearted soldiers with uncov- 
ered heads forming a large circle around the grave, 
made it, indeed, a scene solemnly impressive. The 
print of my Bible being small, I could not read, but 
recited from memory a few passages of Scripture suit- 
able to the occasion, the one upon which I dwelt 
chiefly being a declaration of Paul to the Corinthians, 
''For we must all appear before the judgment seat of 
Christ.'^ I then spoke of the certainty of that 
change from life to death; that with the soldier, 
even, death is not confined to the battle field; spoke 
of our comrade, who but in the morning bade as fair 
for long life as any of us, but within the space of a 
few short hours was lying in the cold embrace of 
death; of another of our brigade who was instantly 
killed a short time since by a stroke of lightning; 



DURING THE WAR. 213 

closed with an exhortation to all to live nearer to 
God, and be prepared at all times to meet their God 
in peace. Oh, how sad! Far away from his home 
to be buried in a land of strangers. How the hearts 
of his father, mother, and sisters must bleed when 
they receive the sad tidings. 

I expect we will leave here for Middle Tennessee 
next Monday, as the river will be falling by that time. 
There is much talk of this brigade being sent home 
after this campaign. Major Rankin has been ex- 
changed, and is with us. I gave Lt. Collinses over- 
coat to his company to take care of for him. 

Am so glad to hear from ma and sister. We get 
no letters from Texas, but are continually sending 
some over, as all the disabled of the last campaign 
are being retired and sent across. Poor Uncle James! 
His Joseph is gone. * * * Write to me often. 
Affectionately, 

Your Brother." 

Ah, could the history of these brave men be writ- 
ten, what a record it would be of endurance, of dar- 
ing, of heroism, of sacrifice! And the heart-breaking 
pathos of the last chapters of their experience, ere the 
furling of the flag they followed! Pat Cleburne and 
his fallen braves — 

"On fame's eternal campinir ground, 

Their silent tents are spread, 
And glory marks with solemn round 

The bivouac of the dead." 



• 
214 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XVII. 

AN INCIDENT OF THE WAR. 

Related to the writer by Hon. Roger Q. Mills, of Texas. 

The Dight was black as Erebus. Not a scintillant 
of light from moon or star penetrated the dense forest, 
and no eye save that of God discerned the dangers of 
the situation. Hill and dale, mountain and precipice, 
creek and surging stream, presented barriers that 
none but men inured to hardship, and unknown to 
fear, would have attempted to surmount. 

Obedient to the command of the superior officer, 
the remnant of that magnificent and intrepid army, 
once guided by the unerring wisdom of Joseph E. 
Johnston, plodded their way uncomplainingly over 
these trying difficulties. The Lord must have been 
amazed at their temerity, and shook the very earth 
in rebuke, and ever and anon by the lightning's flash 
revealed glimpses of the peril to which they were 
exposed; and yet in unbroken line they groped their 
way, not knowing whither. At length bewildered, 
and made aware of impending danger, the general in 
command ordered a halt. The martial tread ceased, 
and all was still as death. In the midst of this still- 
ness a voice, sweet as that of a woman, was heard re- 



DURING THE WAR 215 

peating that grand old hymn, which has given com- 
fort to many weary ones treading the wine press: 

"How tirm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, 
Is laid for jour faith in His excellent Word! 
What more can He say than to you He hath said, 
You who unto Jesus for refuge have fled. 

"In every condition, in sickness, in health, 
In poverty's vale, or abounding in wealth, 
At home and abroad, on the land, on the sea. 
As thy days may demand shall thy strength ever be. 

" Fear not, I am with thee, O! be not dismayed, 
I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid; 
I'll strengthen thee, help thee and cause thee to stand. 
Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand. 

" When through the deep waters I call thee to go. 
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow; 
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless, 
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. 

"When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie, 
My grace all sufficient shall be thy supply; 
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design 
Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine. 

" E'en down to old age, all My people shall prove 
My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love; 
And when hoary hairs shall their teniples adorn. 
Like lambs they shall still in My bosom be borne. 

"The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, 
I will not, I will not desert to His foes; 
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, 
I'll never, no never, no never forsake.'" 

General Mills said that (hiring the rendition of this 
beantiful hymn, not even the breaking of a twig, or 
the changing of a footstep broke the silence of the 



216 LIFE IN DIXIE 



midnight tranquility. The rain drops ceased to fall; 
the electricity darted harmlessly through the tree tops; 
and the muttering of the thunder lulled. 

After a most impressive silence of several minutes, 
the same voice which had rendered the hymn so effect- 
ively repeated from memory an appropriate passage 
of Scripture and proceeded to expatiate upon it. He 
had not uttered a dozen words before another flash of 
lightning revealed the upturned heads and listening 
attitudes of the men composing that weird congrega- 
tion, and each one of them knew as if by instinct 
that he was going to hear something that would help 
him on his journey to the Land of Beulah. Strong 
in the faith, he carried many of the truths and prom- 
ises of the Holy Word within his mind, and now, as 
many times before, he opened them by the magic key 
of memory and unfolded to view their unsearchable 
riches. He begged his fellow-men and comrades in 
arms to accept them without money and without price 
— to accept them that they miglit wear kingly robes 
and royal diadems, and be with Jesus in His Father's 
regal mansions throughout the grand eternities. And 
as he told the old, old story of divine love, it assumed 
a contemporaneous interest and seemed a living pres- 
ent reality. Every man who heard it felt the living 
force and energizing influence of the theme. And 
thus by earnest aggressive appeals, he exerted a won- 
derful power for good over the minds of his hearers; 
and those men, even now with phantom hands point- 
ing gaunt fingers at them, by their deep interest testi- 



DUBINQ THE WAR. 217 

fied to the warm suffusing purpose which made itself 
felt in every word that he uttered, as he told of the 
Fatherhood of God and the ever-present sympathy of 
a benignant and infinite parent, who delighteth not 
in the death of sinners, but rather that all should 
come to Him and have eternal life. 

General Mills added that, as the fine resonant voice 
of the speaker penetrated the dense forest and found 
its way to his hearers in distinct enunciation of well- 
chosen words, the deep-toned thunder emphasized the 
impressive points, and made it a scene which for 
grandeur and sublimity has never been surpassed, 
while the vivid flashes of lightning revealed again 
and again the earnest face and solemn mien of my 
brother, Lieutenant Thomas J. Stokes, of the Tenth 
Texas Infantr>^ of Cleburne's Division. 



• 
218 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER Xyill. 

Picking up minnie ballsaround Atlanta— Exchanging them 
for bread. 

After mingling renewed vows of allegiance to our 
cause, and expressions of a willing submission to the 
consequences of defeat — privations and evil dire, if 
need be — with my morning orisons; yet I could not 
be oblivious to the fact that I was hungry, very hun- 
gry. And there was another, whose footsteps were 
becoming more and more feeble day by day, and 
whose voice, when heard at all, was full of the pathos 
of despair, who needed nourishment that could not be 
obtained, and consolation which it seemed a mockery 
to offer. 

In vain did I look round for relief. There was 
nothing left in the country to eat. Yea, a crow 
flying over it would have failed to discover a morsel 
with which to appease its hunger; for a Sheridan by 
another name had been there with his minions of de- 
struction, and had ruthlessly destroyed every vestige 
of food and every means of support. Every larder 
w^as empty, and those with thousands and tens of 
thousands of dollars, Avere as poor as the poorest, and 
as hungry too. Packing trunks, in every house to 
which refugees had returned, contained large amounts 



DURING THE WAL\ 219 

of Confederate money. We had invested all we pos- 
sessed, except our home, and land and negroes, in 
Confederate bonds, and these were now inefficient 
for purchasing purposes. Gold and silver we had 
none. A more favored few had a little of those 
desirable mediums of purchase, and sent a great dis- 
tance for supplies; but they offered no relief to those 
who had stayed at home and borne the brunt of battle, 
and saved their property from the destroyers' touch. 

What was I to do? Sit down and wait for the 
inevitable starvation? No; I was not made of such 
stuff. I had heard that there had been a provision 
store opened in Atlanta for the purpose of bartering 
provisions for munitions of war — anything that could 
be utilized in warfare. Minnie balls were particularly 
desirable. I therefore took Telitha by the apron, and 
had a little talk with her, and when I was through 
she understood that something was up that would 
bring relief to certain organs that had become quite 
troublesome in their demands, and she was anxious to 
take part in the performance, whatever that might be. 
I went also to my mother, and imparted to her my 
plans of operation, and she took that pathetic little 
backward step peculiar to herself on occasions which 
tried her soul, and with quivering lip she assented in 
approving, though almost inaudible words. 

With a basket in either hand, and accompanied by 
Telitha, who carried one that would hold about a peck, 
and two old dull case knives, I started to the battle 



220 LIFE IN DIXIE 

fields around Atlanta to pick up the former missiles of 
death to exchange for food to keep us from starving. 

It was a cold day. The wind was very sharp, and 
over the ground denuded of forest trees and under- 
growth, the wind was blowing a miniature gale. Our 
wraps were inadequate, and how chilled we became 
in that rude November blast! Mark you it was the 
30th of November, 1864. But the colder we were, 
the faster we walked, and in an incredibly short time 
we were upon the battle field, searching for lead. 

I made it a point to keep very near the road in the 
direction of Atlanta, and soon found myself on the 
very spot where the Confederate magazine stood, the 
blowing up of which, by Confederate orders, shook 
the very earth, and was distinctly heard thirty-five or 
forty miles distant. An exclamation of glad surprise 
from Telitha carried me to her. She had found a 
bonanza, and was rapidly filling her basket with that 
which was more vahiable to us than gold. In a 
marshy place, encrusted with ice, innumerable bullets, 
minnie balls, and pieces of lead seemed to have been 
left by the irony of fate to supply sustenance to hun- 
gry ones, and employment to the poor, as all the 
winter those without money to send to more favored 
and distant points found sure returns from this lead 
mine. It was so cold ! our feet were almost frozen, 
and our hands had commenced to bleed, and handling 
cold rough lead cramped them so badly that I feared 
we would have to desist from our work before filling 
the baskets. 



DURING THE WAB. 221 

Lead! Blood! Tears! Oh how suggestive! Lead, 
blood, and tears, mingled and commingled. In vain 
did I try to dash the tears away. They would assert 
themselves and fall upon lead stained with blood. 
''God of mercy, if this be Thy holy will, give me forti- 
tude to bear it uncomplainingly,'' was the heart-felt 
invocation that Avent up to the throne of grace from 
over lead, blood, and tears, that fearful day. For re- 
lief, tears did not suffice. I wanted to cry aloud; 
nature would not be satisfied with less, and I cried 
like a baby, long and loud. Telitha caught the spirit 
of grief, and cried too. This ebullition of feeling on 
her part brought me to a realization of my duty to her, 
as well as to my poor patient mother to whom the day 
must seem very long, and I tried to stifle my sobs and 
lamentations. I wondered if she had the forebodings 
of coming bereavement that were lacerating my own 
heart. I did not doubt but that she had, and I cried 
in sympathy for her. 

At length our baskets were filled, and we took up 
our line of march to the desolated city. There were 
no labarynths to thread, nor streets to follow, and an 
occasional question secured information that enabled 
us to find the ''commissary" without delay. Telitha 
was very ambitious that I should appear a lady, and 
wanted me to deposit my load of lead behind some 
place of concealment, while we went on to deliver 
hers, and then let her go back for mine. But I was 
too much a Confederate soldier for that, and walked 
bravely in with my heavy precious load. 



222 LIFE IN DIXIE 

A courteous gentlemau, in a faded grey uniform, 
evidently discharged because of ^younds received in 
battle, approached and asked what he could do for 
me. ''I have heard that you give provisions for lead," 
I replied, '^and I have brought some to exchange.'^ 
What seemed an interminable silence ensued, and I 
felt, without seeing, that I was undergoing a sympa- 
thetic scrutiny, and that I was recognized as a lady 
^'to the manor born." 

^'What would you like in exchange," he asked. 
"If y9u ha\e sugar, and coftee, and meal, a little ot 
each if you please," I timidly said. *'I left nothing to 
eat at home." 

The baskets of lead were removed to the rear and 
weighed, and in due time returned to me filled to the 
brim with sugar, coffee, flour, meal, lard, and the 
nicest meat I had seen in a long time. 

"O, sir," I said, "I did not expect so much." 

"You have not yet received what is due you," this 
good man replied, and handed me a certificate which 
he assured me would secure as much more on pre- 
sentation. 

Joy had gone out of my life, and I felt no thrill ot 
that kind; but I can never describe the satisfaction I 
experienced as I lifted two of those baskets, and saw 
Telitha grasp the other one, and turned my face 
homeward. 



DURING THE WAR. 223 



CHAPTER XIX. 

The Decatur women's struggle for bread — Sweet singing in 
hard places — Pleasant visitors — I make a trip to Ala- 
bama — The news of my brother's death. 

The tug of war was upon us from the mountains to 
the sea-board, and ingenious was tlie woman who de- 
vised means to keep the wolf, hungry and ravenous, 
from the door. The depreciation of our currency, 
and its constant diminution in value, had rendered it 
an unreliable purchasing commodity, and we had 
nothing to give in exchange for food. I, therefore, 
felt that I had literally rubbed against Aladdin^s lamp 
when I saw much needed food, good and palatable, 
given in exchange for minnie balls, and for any kind 
of metal convertible into destructive missiles, and I 
was anxious that others should share the benefit accru- 
ing from the lead mine mentioned in a former sketch. 
In pursuance of this humane desire, I proclaimed its 
discovery and results from house to house; for, mark 
you, we had no " Daily Courier," nor messenger boy 
to convey the glad tidings to the half-famished women 
and children in and around Decatur. And if my 
words could have been changed into diamonds by the 
magic wand of a fairy, not one of those starving 
people would have accepted the change of diamonds 
for bread. 



224 LIFE IN DIXIE 

It required only a short time to raise a large com- 
pany of women, girls and little boys, who were ready 
to do service for themselves and their country by dig- 
ging lead with case knives from mines providentially 
furnished them. And was it not serving the cause 
of the Confederacy? I thought so; and never walked 
with more independent step than when acting as gen- 
eralissimo of that band of devoted, patriotic women, 
en route to the ^^ lead mines ^^ around Atlanta. Telitha, 
too, evidently felt that she was an important adjunct 
in the mining enterprise, and a conspicuous personage 
in the scenes being enacted, and emphasized her opin- 
ion by strong and suggestive gesticulation. On this 
occasion she playfully wrenched from my hand the 
small vessel with which I had supplied myself and 
which I carried on the former trip, and substituted a 
larger one, while for herself she got at least a half 
bushel measure. 

All who remember the month of December, 1864, 
know that it abouaded in clouds and rain and sleet, 
and was intensely cold in the Confederate States of 
America; and in the latitude embracing Atlanta 
such severity of weather had never been known to the 
oldest inhabitant. But what mattered it? Each one 
in that little band of women was connected by a bright 
link to the illustrious armies that were enduring 
greater privation and hardship than those to which 
she was exposed, and counted it a willing oblation 
upon his country's altar, and why should she not prove 



DURING THE WAR. 225 

faithful to the end, and sutfer the j)angs of hunger and 
privation too? 

The work of picking up minnie balls began as soon 
as we reached the battlefield, and, consequently, we 
carried several pounds some distance unnecessarily. 
The "mine" proper, I douV)t not, could have filled sev- 
eral wagons. As "a little fun now and then is rel- 
ished by the wisest men,'' I found a grim smile 
asserting itself at the (piaint and ready wit of those 
estimable girls, the Misses Morton, whose Christian 
names I have forgotten, and who, alas! have long since 
joined the silent majority. One of them assumed 
the character of a Confederate soldier and the other 
that of a Federal, and the conversation carried on be- 
tween them, as they "exchanged coffee and tobacco,'* 
was rich, rare and racy. The exchange having been 
effected, the signal of combat was given. "Look out, 
Billy Yank!" "Look out Johnnie Reb!" were si- 
multaneous warnings from opposing forces, and min- 
nie balls whized through the air, much to the merri- 
ment of the little boys wdio wished themselves men, 
that they might be with their fathers, whizing minnie 
balls from musket mouths. 

The sham battle over, the work of digging lead 
was resumed, and in an amazingly short time our ves- 
sels were filled to overflowing. I watched Telitha 
with interest. She was eager to fill her basket, and 
more than once she said, "Me full!'' and added a lit- 
tle guttural laugh that always indicated pleasure. Her 
attempt to raise the basket from the ground, and her 



2-26 LIFE IN DIXIE 

utter failure to do so, surprised her amaziugly, and 
her disappointment Avas pathetic. With great reluc- 
tance she saw her treasure reduced to her capacity of 
handling. Each member of the party experienced 
similar disappointment on attempting to raise her bur- 
den, and we left more exhumed lead and other valua- 
bles than we carried away. 

We took up our line of march, and as there w^ere 
no obstructions in the way, (for, be it remembered, 
Sherman had been there, and with torch and explo- 
sive removed all obstructions save the standing chim- 
neys and carcasses of horses and cattle shot by his 
order to prevent the possibility of use to the rebels) we 
struck a bee-line to the commi.-^sary. As the first to 
take advantage of this industry, I took the lead, and 
the vigor of young womanhood, and "a heart for every 
fate," gave elasticity to my steps, and I soon out- 
distanced even the girls. In due time we reached 
the commissary, and in a short w^hile a most satisfac- 
tory exchange was made, thanks to one whose great 
heart beat in unison wdth ours, and in lieu of the 
heavy burden ^vhich we laid dow^n we picked up food 
for the nourishment of our tired bodies and those of 
our loved ones at home. Oh, how light, compara- 
tively, it seemed ! I verily believe it it had weighed 
the same number of pounds, it would have seemed 
lighter, and the change would have seemed restful. 
'^Good-bye, noble ladies and sisters in a righteous 
cause," was the parting salutation of our no less noble 
benefactor. 



DURING THE WAR. 22:1 

With our respective packages of food we agnin turned 
our faces homeward, solemn as a funeral march, for, 
strive against them as we would, we all had forebod- 
ings of ill, and the swaying of our bodies and our foot- 
steps kept time with the pulsations of our sad hearts, I 
fancied as I approached standing chimneys and other 
evidences of destroyed homes, that the spirit of Sher- 
man, in the guise of an evil spirit, was laughing over 
the destruction his diabolism had wrought. In the 
midst of these reflections a song, which for sweetness 
and tranquilizing melody I have seldom heard equalled 
and never surpassed, broke the stillness of the scene 
and added to the melancholy interest of the occasion. 
It was the well known ballad, then familiar to every 
child in the Confederacy: ^'When this Cruel War is 
Over," and sung by those gifted sisters mentioned as 
a part of the lead digging company. The pure, sweet 
soprano voice of one of the girls, put to flight the 
spirit ot Sherman, and when it w^as joined by the flute- 
like alto of the other, every evil spirit within and 
without was exorcised, and the spirit of submission 
took its place. And yet as the words rang out and 
found an echo in my own heart, I had to walk very 
straight, and turn my head neither to the right nor 
to the left, lest I betray the copious tears trickling 
down my cheeks. At length pent up feeling burst 
the fetters, and an audible sob removed restraint, and we 
cried as women burdened with great sorrow. Precious 
tears ! Nature's kind alleviator in time of trouble. 



228 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"The clpy was cold and dark and dreary, 
And it rained, and the winds were never weary.'' 

and yet I was oerved for its duties and toil by the 
conciousness of having met, uncomplainingly, the work 
which the preservation of my own principles made me 
willing to endure. 

Several days subsequent to this trip to Atlanta, the 
Morton girls came running in and told me that we 
had some delightful friends at the "Swanton place," 
who requested to see us. My mother was too much 
exhausted by anxiety and waiting for that which 
never came, to go, but approved my doing so. I, 
therefore, donned my sun-bonnet and went; and whom 
should I meet but Mrs. Trenholm and her sweet 
young daughters, Essie and Lila? I was delighted to 
see them, and invited them to go home with me. Ma 
received them in a spirit of cordial hospitality, and 
they were invited to remain at her house. Without 
hesitation, Mrs. Trenholm accepted the proffered kind- 
ness, and returned to her wayside rendezvous only to 
send her trunks, bedding and other household goods. 
And truly the coming of that saintly woman and 
those lovely girls was a rare benediction, especially 
at that time. Day by day ma looked in vain for tid- 
ings from ^'the front" — wherever that might be — and 
day by day her health and strength was perceptibly 
weakened by disappointment. Mrs. Trenholm's sym- 
pathy with her in her suspense regarding the opera- 
tions of Hood's army, and the fate of her beloved 
son, was both touching and consoling. Seeing that 



DUEING THE WAR. 229 

my mother and myself were hoping almost against 
hope, she endeavored to bring us to a realization of 
that fact, and a complete submission to the will of 
God, even though that will deprived us of our loved 
one. All of her christian arguments and consola- 
tions had been pondered over and over by mother and 
daughter, but they never seemed so sweet and potent 
as when coming in the chaste and simple language of 
a precious saintly woman. 

With the tact peculiar to the refind of every clime 
and locality, Mrs. Trenholm assumed management of 
the culinary department, and her dinner pot hung 
upon our crane several weeks, and daily sent forth 
appetizing odors of bacon and peas. How we enjoyed 
thosie peas and that bacon ! and the soup seasoned 
with the only condiments at our command — salt and 
red pepper — and the good hoe-cakes! Mrs. Trenholm 
had a large sack of cow-peas, and a sack of dried 
fruit, and other articles of food with which she was 
provided for herself and her family before she left 
Southw^est Georgia enroute to her home In Marietta, 
which she left in obedience to the order of William 
Tecumseh Sherman, and which she learned before 
reaching Decatur, had shared the fate of nearly all 
other liomes which liad to be thus abandoned. Al- 
though magnanimously proffered, we were averse to 
sharing Mrs. Trenholm's well-prepared and ofttimes 
tempting cuisine^ unless our proportion of food equaled 
hers ; and fearing even the appearance of scanty sup- 
plies, I set about to gather up '^the miners," so that 



230 LIFE IN DIXIE 

we might appoint a day to again go lead digging, if 
that which we left in as many little heaps as there 
were members of the company had been in the 
interim, gathered up by others. 

On former occasions I had led my company to vic- 
tory over that malignant general left by Sherman to 
complete his work, and, styled by him ''General Star- 
vation/^ and they were willing to go wherever I led. 
Now I had two recruits of whom I was very proud. 
Telitha, too, had gathered from observation that the 
sweet young Trenholm girls were going with us, and 
she set about to provide very small baskets for their 
use, which, with gestures amusing and appropriate she 
made us understand were large enough to contain all 
the lead that girls so pretty and so lady-like ought to 
carry. To their credit, however, they repudiated that 
idea, and carried larger vessels. By appointment the 
''lead diggers" were to meet at the tan yard, those ar- 
riving first to wait until the entire number came. 
"Man proposes and God disposes." Just as my last 
glove was drawn on, Telitha, ever on the alert, said 
"Morton, Morton," and I looked and saw the girls 
coming. "We needn^t go — the commissary has folded 
its tents, and silently stolen away," was the voluntary 
announcement. Imagine my consternation and dis- 
appointment — the last hope of supply cut oif ! Ma 
saw the effect upon me, and said in a more hopeful 
voice than was her wont, "The Lord is my shepherd, 
I shall not want." And good Mrs. Trenholm said 
her sack of peas was like the cruse of oil that never 



DURING THE WAR. 231 

seemed to diminish in qnantity, however mnch was 
taken out of it. An examination, too, of our own re- 
sources was quite gratifying; hut I knew I ought to 
be providing for a rainy day." 

I pass now over an interval which brings me to the 
latter part of January, 1865. My sister returned 
home from Madison and spent several weeks with us, 
but had accepted an oifer to teach at Grantville, on the 
LaGrange and West Point Railroad. I had a pre- 
cious aunt, my mother's sister, Mrs. Annie Watson, 
whom I loved dearly, and of whom I had not heard a 
word since the interruption of the mail communication 
by the siege of Atlanta, and my mother's frequent 
mention of her determined me to go and see if this 
beloved aunt was living, and, if so, in what condition. 
I knew she was one of the favored ones of earth, 
viewed from a worldly standpoint, but 1 knew not 
what changes had come over her or her worldly pos- 
sessions. Rumor conveyed startling accounts of the 
atrocious deeds of Wilson's raiders, and I knew that 
they were operating in that rich cotton belt of Ala- 
bama which embraced my aunt's j)lantation and beau- 
tiful home. I could scarcely hope that that home 
and its valuable appointments had escaped the cupi<lity 
of an organized band of robbers protected by the 
United States (xovernment. 

When 1 think of my mother's fond affection for her 
children, and her tender solieitude for their welfare, 
I am constrained to tiiiuk that she thought 1 was 
endowed with a sort of charmed existence not subject 



232 LIFE IN DIXIE 

to the perils which beset the pathway of ordinary 
mortals, and hence her ready acquiescence to my prop- 
osition to undertake a journey of many miles under 
circumstances of imminent danger that inspired her 
with confidence amounting to certainty that 1 would 
be preserved by an All-wise Providence for future 
usefulness. I had very little preparation to make for 
the contemplated trip. A pretty, small-checked dress, 
which had done service through many a changing 
scene, and was good for as many more, and a hat — 
well, I beg to be excused from describing it — and 
gloves upon which I had expended skill in darning 
until it was difficult to perceive where the darning 
ceased and the glove began, completed my toilet, and 
I V)ade to all appearance a cheerful good-bye to my 
mother and kind friends, and went by private convey- 
ance to Fairburn. There I took the train for Cowles' 
Station, Alabama. 

Nothing of particular interest transpired on the 
way. My country was prostrate and bleeding from 
many lacerations, and my tears flowed so freely that 
by the time I reached mv railroad destination I had 
a very sick headache. That '^ there is a providence 
that shapes our ends" was again illustrated. Some 
of mv aunt's neighbors, who knew me at least by 
name, were at the station, and kindly offered to carry 
me to her residence, a distance of ten miles. I found 
my aunt in feeble health, and all alone save her usual 
dusky attendant. Her only child, Mrs. Mary E. 
Seaman, had gone to Tuskeegee to see her little 



DURING THE WAR. 233 

daughter, who was there going to school in care of a 
friend and relative, Col. Smith Graham. My closest 
scrutiny failed to detect any change in my aunt's 
mode of living. The same retinue of servants came 
into the house to see and shake hands with mistress' 
niece, and after many questions about "our white 
folks in Georgia," retired from my presence with the 
same courtesy that had marked their demeanor 
towards me in antebellum days. 

My aunt manifested her joy at seeing me in many 
ways, and wept and smiled alternately, as I related 
my adventures with the yankees. '^And my sister, 
what was their treatment of her ? " My evasive 
answer, ^'It could have been worse," heightened her 
desire to learn particulars, and I told them to her. 
She was grateful for all leniency shown by them, and 
affected to tears by un kindness. As the day waned, 
and the middle of the afternoon came on, my aunt 
proposed walking '^to meet Mary." Isupported her 
fragile form, and guided her footsteps in the best part 
of the road. How like her beloved sister in Georgia 
she seemed ! Accustomed to this little diversion, for 
she always went to meet Mary, she had reckoned 
accurately regarding the time of her daughter's 
coming, and we had not gone far when we saw the 
carriage descending a de(!livity in the distance. Nel- 
son, the coachman, had also recognized '' Mistress and 
Miss Mary," and announced his discovery to my 
cousin. Increased speed in the gait of the horses 
soon brouglit us together, and she opened the door 



234 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and stepped to the ground. After kissing her dear 
mother she encircled me in her arms, and kissed me 
time and again, and then assisted me into the carriage, 
and she and her mother followed. I greeted the 
coachman in a cordial manner, because of past service 
and present fidelity to ''Mistress and my white folks" 
generally. 

With my rapidity in conversation, I could scarcely 
keep up with my cousin's questions. Happy woman! 
She had never seen any ''Blue Coat," or, in the par- 
lance of the times, " Yankees,^^ and she enjoyed my 
description of them, especially w^hen in answer to the 
question, "Do they look like our men?" I attempted 
to define the difference. It was amusing to me to 
hear her describe the preparation she made for the 
coming of Wilson and his raiders. 

After reaching home, she left her mother and myself 
only a few minutes. I scarcely perceived her absence, 
and yet when slie returned the disparity in our dress 
was not so apparent. The elegant traveling suit had 
been exchanged for her plainest home attire, and every 
article of jewelry had disappeared. The brief period 
spent with these dear relatives was spent in mutual 
eflPorts to entertain and amuse each other. My aunt's 
conversation was like sweet music in which minor 
chords abounded. Her love for her sister, and appre- 
hension of evil, gave a pathetic turn to every conversa- 
tion she attempted, and it was evident to me that she 
had given up all hope of* my brother's safety, and her 



DURING THE WAB. 235 

resignation nnder similar circii instances was a great 
support to me. 

Much as I enjoyed this luxurious home, and its 
refined appointments, there was a controlling motive — 
a nearer tie — that made me willing to again take up the 
hardships and perils of warfare, and battle for life 
with that relentless enemy left by Sherman to com- 
plete his cruel work, the aforesaid General Starvation. 

After many farewell words were spoken, I left my 
aunt, accompanied by her daughter, who Avent with 
me to the station for the purpose of seeing me on the 
train bound for Fairburn, then the terminus of the 
railroad. It w^as past noon when the train left the 
station, and, in those days of slow railroad locomotion, 
it was all the afternoon reaching West Point. I 
learned, before reaching there, that I would have to 
remain over until the next morning, and, therefore, as 
soon as I stepped from the cars, started to hunt a 
place at which to spend the night. Wending my way, 
solitary and alone, through the twilight, I saw Mr. 
John Pate, the depot agent at Decatur, coming to- 
wards me. 

^'Oh, Mr. Pate, have you heard anything from ma 
in the last week?" 

'' Yes; it went very hard with her, but she was 
some better this morning." 

I did not have to ask another question. I knew 
it all, and was dumb with grief. The thought that I 
would never see my darling brother again paralyzed 
me. I saw him, in the mirror of my soul, in all the 



236 LIFE IN DIXIE 

periods of his existence. The beautiful little baby 
boy, looking at me the first time out of his heavenly 
blue eyes, and his second'look, as if not satisfied with 
the first, followed by the suggestion of a smile. Ah, 
that smile! It had never failed me through succes- 
sive years and varying scenes. The boyhood and 
vouth — honest, truthful and generous to a fault — and 
the noble, genial manhood, had all developed within 
my recollection, and I loved him with an intensity 
bordering on idolatry. These scenes and many oth- 
e'rs rushed through my mind with kaleidoscopic rapid- 
itv and made me so dizzy that I had no knowledge of 
how I reached the ''hotel." My heart cried and re- 
fused to be comforted. From the consolations of re- 
ligion and patriotism it recoiled and cried all the 
more. A great tie of nature had been sundered, and 
the heart, bruised and crushed and bleeding, pulsated 
still with vitality that would have flickered out but 
for the hope of giving comfort to the poor bereaved 
mother and sister in our great sorrow. Good ladies 
bathed my throbbing temples and kissed my cheeks 
and spoke comforting words, for they were all drink- 
ing the bitter waters of Marah, and knew how to reach 
the heart and speak of the balm of Gilead. 

''Killed on the battle field, thirty steps from the 
breast-works at Franklin, Tennessee, November 30th, 
1864," was the definite information regarding my 
brother's death, left for me by Mr. Pate. 

Interminable as the darkness of night appeared, it 
at length gave way to the light of day, and I was 



DURING THE WAR. 237 

ready with its dawn to take the train. But, oh, the 
weight of this grief that was crushing me! Had the 
serpents which attacked Laocoon, and crushed him to 
death by their dreadful strength, reached out and em- 
braced me in their complicated folds, I could not 
have writhed in greater agony. I did not believe it 
was God's will that my brother should die, and 1 
could not not say to that Holy Being, "Thy will be 
done." In some way I felt a complicity in his death 
— a sort of personal responsibility. When my brother 
wrote to me from his adopted home in Texas that, 
having voted for secession, he believed it to be his 
duty to face the dangers involved by that step, and 
fight for the principles of self-government vouch- 
safed by the Constitution of the United States, I said 
nothing in reply to discourage him, but rather I indi- 
cated that if I were eligible I should enter the con- 
test. These, and such as these were the harrowing 
reflections which accused me of personal responsibility 
for the demon of war entering our household and 
carrying off the hope and prop of a widowed mother. 
I found my poor, stricken mother almost prostrated. 
The tidings of her son's tragic death did the work 
apprehended by all who knew her nervous tempera- 
ment. Outwardly calm and resigned, yet almost 
paralyzed by the blow, she was being tenderly cared 
for by our saintly neighbor, Mrs. Ami Williams, and 
her family, who will always be held in grateful remem- 
brance by her daughters. 



238 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XX. 

MY MOTHER'S DEATH. 

Rev. Dr. John S. WilsoD, performs the funeral service. 

In sympathy with a disappointed people who had 
staked all and lost all in the vain effort to defend the 
inherited rights of freemen, and had not yet rallied from 
the depression occasioned by defeat, the spring of 1866 
had withheld her charms, and, instead of donning a 
mantle of green, decorated with pansies, violets and 
primroses, hyacinths, bluebells and daffodils, verbe- 
nas, phlox and geraniums, and bloom of vine and 
briar in endless variety, the first day of April found 
her wounded, bleeding bosom, wrapped in the habili- 
ments of sorrow and despondency. A few brave old 
apple trees, as if to encourage the more timid, had 
budded and blossomed and sent forth sweet fragrance 
as of yore, and a few daring sprigs of grass suggested 
spring time and sunny skies. Loneliness, oppressive 
and melancholy, and a spirit of unrest, prompted me 
to go to the depot in quest of something that never 
came, and my sister had stepped over to our neighbor, 
Mrs. Williams'. 

Our mother loved the springtime. It had always 
been her favorite season of the year. Fifty-nine ver- 



DURING THE WAR. 239 

nal sons bad brought ins})iration and bope to ber sen- 
sitive tender beart, and given impulse to a checkered 
life ; but now no day star of bope sbed its effulgence 
for ber. As I mentioned in a former sketch, ber only 
son bad fallen mortally wounded upon the sanguinary 
battlefield of Franklin, and she bad never recovered 
from the shock. 

After a few months of patient endurance, an 
attack of paralysis bad occurred, and during many 
days life and death contended for the victory. But 
the skill of good physicians, among them Doctor 
Joseph P. Logan, and faithful efficient nursing, aided 
in giving ber a comfortable state of health lasting 
through several months. But the fiat bad gone forth, 
and now after a pathetic survey of earth, mingled 
with thankfulness even then to tbe God of the spring- 
time, she succumbed to tbe inevitable. 

Returning from tlie depot, I espied in tbe distance 
tbe approaching figure of Telitha. As she came up 
to me she was tbe very picture af despair, ^yith one 
hand clasped to ber bead^ she fell on tbe ground and 
lay as if dead for a moment. My worst apprehensions 
were more than realized. I found my mother speech- 
less, and never more heard her voice — never more 
heard any sound emanating from her lips except 
labored heavy breathing. It was all so sudden and 
strange and sad, I cannot describe it. Neighbors and 
friends came in by tbe score, and did all they could to 
mitigate our great sorrow. ^^ Johnnie" Hardeman 
stayed until all was over, and mother never received 



240 LIFE IN DIXIE 

from loving sou kinder care or more unremitting atten- 
tion. Paul Winn also remained and manifested deep 
sympathy, and so did other neighbors. Oh, the sor- 
row, the poignant sorrow, to see. a mother in the em- 
brace of deathj and to have no po^yer over the monster ! 
About thirty hours of unconsciousness, and, without a 
struggle, "life's fitful dream was over,'' about 9 o'clock 
p. m., April 1st, 1866. The silent hush that ensued 
was sacred, and scarcely broken by the sobs of those 
most deeply afflicted. 

Loving hands fashioned a shroud, and a beautiful 
casket was obtained from Atlanta. When all was 
done, and our mother arrayed for the tomb, she looked 
like the bride of Heaven. I gazed long and earnestly 
upon her face and figure, and went away and came 
back, and gazed again admiringly. For every linea- 
ment was formed in a mold that compelled admi- 
ration. 

During the two days that she lay there, I often lin- . 
gered by^her side; and I recalled the many scenes, oft- 
times perilous and sad, and oft times joyous and gay, 
through which we had gone together. Although a 
wee bit girl, scarcely turned in my fifth year at the 
time of my mother's second marriage, I remembered 
her as a bride. I remembered our journey by gig 
and wagon to Cassville, then, paradoxical as it may 
sound now, situated in the heart of a wilderness of 
beauty and savagery. The war-whoop of an uncivilized 
race of Indians, justly angry and resentful, reverber- 
ated through the impenetrable forest that belted the 



DURING THE WAR. 241 

little settlement of white people that had the hardihood 
and bravery to make their homes among them. I 
remembered how she soon became a favorite, and was 
beloved by every one in that sparsely settled locality, 
and won even the hearts of the Indians, by kindness 
towards them. She taught them how to make frocks 
and shirts, and clothes for their children, for the 
Cherokees were an ambitious people, and aspired to 
assimilation with the white race; and, to please them, 
she learned to bead moccasins, and other articles 
ornamental and useful, just as they did. She also 
learned their alphabet, and became able to instruct 
them in their own language. 

I remembered how she had always worked for the 
poor; not so much in societies, (where the good that 
is accomplished in one way is often more than coun- 
terbalanced by the harm that is done in others,) as in 
the quiet of her own home, and in the humble habita- 
tions of God's poor. I remembered, with a melan- 
choly thrill, how she had worked for our soldiers, and 
had not withheld good deeds from an invading, alien 
army. Reverently I took in mine her little, sym- 
metrical hand, as it lay peacefully over the heart that 
had ever beat in unison with all that was good. It 
was weather-beaten, and I could feel the rough places 
on the palm through the pretty white silk glove in 
which it was encased. Cold and stark in death, it 
gave no responsive pressure to my own. I thought 
of its past serv^ice to me in which it never tired. It 
had trained my own from the rudimentary ^^ straight 



242 LIFE IN DIXIE 

lines ^^ and ^^ pot hooks/^ through all the intricacies ot 
skilled penmanship; and from the picturesque letters 
on a sampler to the complete stitches of advanced 
embroidery. The little motionless hand that I now 
held in my own had picked corn from cracks and 
crevices in bureau drawers, which served as troughs 
for Garrard's cavalry horses, to make bread with which 
to appease her hunger and mine. I gazed upon the 
pallid face, and finely chivseled features. The nose 
never seemed so perfect, or the brow so fair, or the 
snow-white hair so beautiful. The daintiest of mull 
caps heightened the effect of the perfect combination 
of feature, placidity and intellectual expression. I fan- 
cied I had never seen her look so beautiful, and felt 
that it was meet that we should lay her away in a 
tomb where she could rest undisturbed until the res- 
urrection morn, not doubting that the verdict of a 
great and good God would assign her a place among 
his chosen ones. 

Soothing to our bruised hearts was the sweet sing- 
ing of those who watched at night beside her lifeless 
form. With gratitude we remember them still: 
Laura and Mary Williams, Emma and John Kirk- 
patrick, Josiah Willard and John McKoy. One of 
the hymns they sang was, *^ Jerusalem, my happy 
home.'' 

The hour for the funeral service came. Friends 
and neighbors and fellow-citizens had been assembling 
for several hours, and now the house was full, and 
the yard was thronged. Where did this concourse of 



DURING THE WAR. 243 

people come from, old men, war-stricken veterans, 
and a few young men who had survived the bloody 
conflict that had decimated the youth of the South, 
and boys and women and girls? All alike came to 
pay respect to the deceased friend, and to show sym- 
pathy for the l)ereaved and lonely sisters. That 
sainted man and friend of ours. Rev. John S. Wilson, 
took his stand near the casket, and we sat near him, 
and those who loved us best got very near to us. 
Ah, well do I remember them! I could call each by 
name now, and the order in which they came. An 
impressive silence ensued, broken by the man of God 
uttering in hopeful intonation and animated manner, 
"She is not dead, but sleepeth,^^ and a sermon fol- 
lowed upon the resurrection of God's people, never 
surpassed in interest and pathos. All felt the power 
of his theme, and the eloquence of his words. He 
also spoke of the humble modesty of his friend, who 
had counted herself least in the congregation of the 
righteous, and dispensed favors to others in an unob- 
trusive manner, and who practically illustrated the 
divine command: ''Do unto others, as ye would that 
others should do unto you.'' This beautiful funeral 
tribute was succeeded by the hymn — 

" Kock of ages, cleft for me," 
which was sung with an unction which none but 
Christians can feel. 

The last earthly look, solemn and earnest, was taken 
of our long-suflPering, patient, loving mother, and 
everybody in the house followed our example and 



244 LIFE IN DIXIE 



gazed reverently upon the pretty face, cold in death. 
And then the pall-bearers, "Johnnie" Kirkpatrick, 
"Johnnie" Hardeman, Virgil Wilson, and Mr. G. 
W. Houston bore her to the grave. 

With uncovered head, and gray locks fluttering in 
the vernal breeze, Dr. Wilson repeated the beautiful 
burial service of the Presbyterian Church. I can 
never describe the utter desolation of feeling I expe- 
rienced as I stood clasped in the arms of my sister, 
and heard the first spade full of earth fall over the 
remains of our loved one. 

But we had heard above all the glorious words, 
"This mortal shall put on immortality," and "O, 
death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy 
victory ?" 



DURING THE WAR. 245 



CHAPTER XXI. 
A REMINISCENCE. 

^'Sister, you are not paying any attention whatever 
to my reading, and you are losing the most beautiful 
thoughts in this delightful book.^' 

^' Yes, and I am sorry to do so; but I think I see 
one of RachePs children — Madaline or Frances." 

My sister closed her book and, looking in the di- 
rection indicated, agreed with me that the negro wo- 
man, clothed in the habiliments of widowhood, who 
was coming up the avenue with a little boy by her 
side and one in her arms, was one of RachePs chil- 
dren ; and, although she was scarcely in her teens 
when she went away, she was a mother now, and 
traces of care were visible in every lineament of her 
face. I recognized her, however, as RachePs young- 
est daughter, Frances, and went to meet her. 

^'Is that you, Frances?" I asked. 

"Yes, Miss Mary, this is me; your same nigger 
Frances, and these are my children." 

"I am glad to see you and your children;" and I 
extended my hand in genuine cordiality to her who 
had once been a slave in my mother's family, and I 
bade her welcome to her old home. Frances was too 



246 LIFE IJS DIXIE 



demonstrative to be satisfied with simply tiand clasp- 
ing, and, putting her boy on the ground, she threw 
her arms round me and literally overwhelmed me with 
kisses. My hands, neck and face Avere covered with 
them, and she picked me up and carried me in her 
arms to the house, her children following in amazed 
astonishment. She now turned her attention to them, 
and, after deliberately shaking the wrinkles out of 
their clothes, she as deliberately introduced them to 
me. The older of the two she introduced as ^^King 
by name,'^ and the younger as ''Lewis by name." 

"You see, Miss Mary, I named my children King 
and Lewis ^cause my white folks named my brothers 
King and Lewis." 

The ceremony of introducing her sons to her old 
white folks being performed to her satisfaction, she 
again turned her attention to me, and again literally 
overwhelmed me with caresses. 

Entering the house, I asked Frances and her child- 
ren to come in, too. 

"Miss Mary, whar's Miss Polly?" 

"Have you not heard, Frances, that Ma is dead?" 

"Seem to me I has heard somethin^ about it, but 
some how I didn't believe it. And my poor Miss 
Polly is dead ! Well she aint dead, but she's gone to 
heaven." 

And Frances became quite hysterical in demon- 
strations of brief 

"And Mars Thomie, what about him. Miss Mary?" 



DURING THE ^\AR. 247 

"He was killed by the enemy at Franklin, Tenn., 
the 30th of Nov., 1864." 

"Miss Mary, did them old Yankees kill him?" 

"Yes, he was killed in battle-" 

And again, whether sincere or affected, Frances 
became hysterical in demonstrations of grief. 

"Miss Mary, whar's Miss Missouri? Is she dead 
too?" 

"No, that was she who was sitting in the portico 
with me as you were coming up the avenue. She 
always has to go off and compose herself before meet- 
ing any of you — Ma was ^that way, too — I suppose 
you remind her of happier days, and the contrast is 
so sad that she is overcome by grief and has to get 
relief in tears." 

"Yes'm, I have to cry, too, and it does me a mon- 
strous heap of good. I know its mighty childish, 
but I jest can't help it. Jest to think all my white 
folks is done dead but Miss Mary and Miss Missouri !" 

"Our brother left a dear little boy in Texas, and I 
am going after him next winter. He and his mother 
are going to live with us, and then we will not be so 
lonely." 

"That's so. Miss Mary." 

Frances and her children having partaken of a 
bountiful supper, she resumed, with renewed vigor, her 
erratic conversation, which consisted, chiefly, of innu- 
merable questions, interspersed with much miraculous 
information regarding herself since she left her white 
folks and became a wife, a mother, and a widow. 



248 LIFE IN DIXIE 

^^Miss Mary, whar's my children goiog to sleep 
to-Dight V 

^^With your help I will provide a comfortable place 
for them, and, also, for you/' 

And taking a lantern and leading the way to the 
kitchen, I entered and pointed to a light bedstead, and 
told her to carry a portion of it at a time to my 
room, and we would put it up in there. 

^'Same old room, jest like it was when me and my 
mammy use to sleep in it. 

^'Well, things do look mighty nateral if it has been 
a long time since I seed it. 

^'And Miss Mary is a going to let me and my chil- 
dren sleep in her room. Well!" 

The bedstead having been placed in position, a 
mattress and bed clothing were furnished. And soon 
the little negro children were soundly sleeping under 
the protecting roof of their mother's former young 
mistresses. 

" Whar's your teajkettle, Miss Mary?" Having been 
told where to find it, Frances took it to the well and 
filled it with water, and, by adding a little more fuel 
to the fire, soon had it boiling. 

'^Whar's your bath tub, Miss Mary?" 

That too was sogn produced and supplied with hot 
water, reduced to proper temperature. Memories of 
the past leit no doubt in my mind as to the use to 
which the water was to be applied, and I determined 
to gratify every fancy that would give pleasure to our 
former hand maid, and, therefore, I made no resist- 



DURING THE WAR, 249 

ance when garters were unbuckled, shoes and stock- 
ings removed, and feet tenderly lifted into the tub. 
She knew just how long to keep them there, and 
how to manipulate them so as to give the most satis- 
faction and enjoyment; and how to dry them — a very 
important process. And then the shoes and stockings 
were again put on, and giving me an affectionate pat 
on the head she told me to sit still until she told me 
to move. 

^'Now, wharfs your comb and brush?" 

The force of habit must have impelled her to ask 
this question, as, without awaiting an answer, she 
went to the bureau and got the articles about which 
she had asked, and in a few moments she had my 
long, luxuriant black hair, uncoiled and flowing over 
my shoulders. She was delighted ; she combed and 
braided it, and unbraided and combed it again and 
again, and finally, as if reluctant to do so, arranged it 
for the night. 

^*Now, whar's your gown?" ''You will find it 
hanging in the ward-robe." 

Having undressed me, Frances insisted upon put- 
ting the gown on me, and then wanted to carry and 
put me in bed; this service, however, I declined with 
thanks. All these gentle manipulations had a sopor- 
ific effect upon me, and I feign would have slept, but 
no such pleasure was in store for me. Frances had an 
axe to grind, and I had to turn the grindstone, or 
incur her displeasure. Mark her proposition : 



250 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"Miss Mary, I come to give you my children. '* 

"Your what?'' 

"My children, these smart little boys. I'll go with 
you to the court-house in the mornin', and you can have 
the papers drawed up and I'll sign 'em, and these lit- 
tle niggers will belong to you 'til they's of age to do 
for theyselves ; and all I'll ever ask you to do for me 
for 'em is to raise them like my Miss Polly raised me." 

"That you should be willing to give your children 
away, Frances, surprises me exceedingly. If you are 
without a home, and would like to come here and live, 
I will do all I can for you and your children. The 
kitchen is not occupied, only as a lumber or baggage 
room, and you can have that without paying rent ; 
and you can take care of the cow and have all you 
can make off of her milk and butter, except just enough 
for the table use of two ; and you can have a garden 
without paying rent, and many other favors — indeed, 
I will favor you in every possible way." 

" Well, I tell you how it is, Miss Mary. You see. 
Mammy wants to open up a laundry, and she wants 
me to help her. She's done 'gaged several womens 
to help her, and she wants me to go in with her sorter 
as a partner, you see. And I wants to get my children 
a good home, for you knows if I had to take care of 
'em I couldn't do much in a laundry." 

" And you want me to take care of them ?" 

"Yes'm, just like you use to take care of your own 
little niggers before freedom, and after I sign the 
papers they'll belong to you, donH you know .^" 



DUEINO THE WAR. 251 

*'I am sorry to disappoint you, Frances, but I can- 
not accept your offer." 

*' If slavery were restored and every negro on the 
American continent were offered to me, I should 
spurn the offer, and prefer poverty rather than assume 
the cares and perplexities of the ownership of a people 
who have shown very little gratitude for what has 
been done for them." Without seeming to notice the 
last sentence, Frances exclaimed : 

'' Well, it's mighty strange. White folks used to 
love little niggers, and now they won't have 'em as 
a gracious gift." 

Under the cover of night she had made her propo- 
sition and received her disappointment, after which 
she lay down beside her children and was soon sleep- 
ing at the rate of 2:40 per hour, if computed by the 
snoring she kept up. In due time morning, cheerful, 
sun lighted morning came, and with it many benign 
influences and good resolutions for the day. 

Frances asked where everything was, and having 
ascertained, went to work and soon had a nice appe- 
tizing breakfast for us, as well as for herself and chil- 
dren. After that important meal had been enjoyed, 
she inquired about the trains on the Georgia railroad, 
and asked what time she could go into Atlanta. I 
told her she could go at nine o'clock, but I preferred 
that she should stay until twelve o'clock, m. 

^'Miss Mary, what was in that trunk I saw in the 
kitchen last night?" 



252 LIFE AV DIXIE 

''I scarcely know, odds and ends put there for safe 
keeping, I suppose." 

"May I have the trunk and the odds and ends in 
it? They can't be much, or they wouldn't be put off 
there." 

"We will go and see." Again I took the kitchen 
key, and the trunk key as well, and having unlocked 
both receptacles, I told Frances to turn the contents 
of the trunk out upon the floor. When she saw them 
I noticed her disappointment, and I told her to remain 
there until 1 called her. I went in the house and got 
a pair of sheets, a pair of blankets, a quilt, several 
dresses and underclothing, and many things that she 
could make useful for her children, and put them 
together, and then called her and told her to take 
them and put them in the trunk. 

"Look here, Miss Mary, you aint going to give me 
all them things, is you?" 

"Yes, put them in the trunk and lock it." 

A large sack of apples, a gift also, was soon gathered 
and a boy engaged to carry it and the trunk over to 
the depot in a wheelbarrow. Promptly at half past 
eleven o'clock the trunk and apples, and Frances and 
her little boys, were on the way to the depot, en route 
to Atlanta, their future home, and even a synopsis of 
the subsequent achievements of that woman and her 
unlettered mother would be suggestive of Munchausen. 



DURING THE WAR. 253 



TO THE READER, 

Who has kindly perused these sketches, I would say, 
as they have already attained length and breadth not 
anticipated from the beginning, I will withhold the 
sequels to many of them for, perhaps, another volume 
of reminiscences. 

Were 1 possessed of the Sam Weller genius and 
versatility, and the happy faculty of making the 
reader wish I had written more, I would throw open 
the doors of the store house of my war memories, a 
structure as capacious as the ^^ Southern Confederacy'^ 
and canopied by the firmament, and invite the public 
to enter and share with me the treasures hidden there. 
The corruscations of wit, and the profound displays 
of wisdom, by those who donned Confederate gray 
and went forth in manhood's prime to battle for the 
principles of their country, would employ the minds 
and feast the intellect of the most erudite. The living 
glowing pictures hanging upon the wall which de- 
lineate the mysteries of humanity in all its varied 
forms, and, by example, demonstrate that we often 
spurn with holy horror that which is better far than 
that which we embrace with all the fervor of affec- 
tion; I would resurrect the loftiest patriotism from 
the most humble graves in the Southern land, and 



254 LIFE IN DIXIE 

prove by heroic deeds and noble acts that valor on 
the battlefield was as often illustrated by the humble 
soldier whose name has not been preserved in ''storied 
urn/^ as by the gallant son of chivalrous ancestors 
who commanded the applause of an admiring multi- 
tude. I would place by the side of those greatest of 
chieftains, Robert E. Lee, and our impregnable 
"Stonewall" Jackson, and Albert Sydney Johnston, 
many of our soldiers "unknown to fame/' in faded 
gray jackets and war-worn pants, and challenge the 
world for the difference. I would dwell with loving 
interest upon the innumerable sad sweet faces of the 
mighty throng of bereaved mothers, sisters and aunts, 
out of w^hose lives all the light had gone out, and 
who, though hopeless, uttered no word of complaint 
against our cause or its leaders, but toiled on with 
unswerving faith and souls that borrowed the lustre 
ol heaven. All these sad things in my gallery I 
would recreate in living form and glowing color. 
And, saddest of all, I would live over with them that 
melancholy period when the very few, comparatively, 
that were lett of the noble band of defenders of our 
principles, came back, not with buoyant step and vic- 
tor crown, but with blighted hopes and despondent 
mien to desolated homes and decimated families. 
Under the new regime I would tell of despair and 
suicide, of hope and energy and success; I would 
tell how I have lived in this gallery — this deserted hall 
— its silent occupants my companions and friends, 
my inspiration to useful deeds. There is not a day 



DURING THE WAR. 255 

that I do not arouse by muffled tread the slumbering 
echoes of this past, and look upon the cherished sou- 
venirs of the patriotic friends now roaming the beau- 
tiful gardens of Paradise, or sleeping the mystic wait- 
ing of the resurrection. I ponder upon their lives, 
their ambitions, their disappointments, and it requires 
no effort of the imagination to animate those dead 
forms and invest them with living attributes. And 
daily, in imagination I weave for them a laurel crown 
that shall grow greener and greener, as the cycles 
of Time speed on to Eternity. 



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